Détruit
by Somah
Summary: "It's all real. They did this, but I'm still here, always, Bella. Find me." Those cryptic words, whispered in a last breath, continue to haunt Bella Swan five years after the supposed death of her love, Edward Masen. AH-AU.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Bella, 2009. Present day.

* * *

Blood.

Blood dripped down my face, trailing close to my wide eyes, and grazing my lips. I was pretty sure it wasn't mine. But it didn't really matter and I didn't really notice.

A body lay motionless not far from me, very possibly dead. I had known this body. But I ignored it.

Neither of these normally disturbing events bothered me at the moment.

No, I was momentarily more concerned about what stood directly in front of me.

I was staring at a ghost.

That was the only way to explain the figure before me, standing so still, wet hair plastered to its face.

My mind was blank, my mouth dry.

Blood continued to drip.

I had not been prepared to see a ghost today.

I had never imagined the eyes of a ghost to hold such sadness, such feeling. Such pain.

The ghost took a step towards me, the paleness of its skin suddenly my focus as it raised a shaking hand towards me. Casper had nothing on this one.

I stepped back into door frame of the open apartment, cringing away from its skin, its hair. Its eyes. Its everything.

It froze, its eyes taking me in, the pain deepening. The hand retreated back to its place beside its body.

"Bella," it whispered. Sighed? I had to strain to hear it. But one thing was unmistakable.

I shivered, my long hair dripping wet down the back of my soaked t-shirt, the drops of blood I could not see mixing in with rain water, ultimately splashing onto the beige carpet. I wanted to wonder about blood and carpet stains and if they can be removed, but instead my every fiber was attuned to one thing:

That voice. That unmistakable voice.

The last time I had heard it, he had been dying in my arms, on a road outside of Forks, his mangled car in the middle of the road, forgotten.

My hair had been covered in blood then, too.

"No," I whispered, my voice lost to the thunder outside, its force shaking the glass windows violently.

"Yes," it replied. It could hear through thunder? "It's all real. I'm here, Bella."

It took another step towards me, carefully, the ghost gauging my reaction.

_It was all real. I'll be here. I am here._

"This is a joke. A sick joke." My back was suddenly against the white wall of the dimly lit hallway outside the open door. I couldn't recall moving.

_Find me._

Those words had haunted me for years, they were words that I had repeated to no one.

"No," it whispered, a flash of lightening brightening the dark apartment, silhouetting the outline of the ghost. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. But it's all real, Bella. I'm here."

Its mouth moved and I heard the words, but my mind refused to accept any of it.

Ghosts were not real.

I was dreaming, I had to be.

Because the alternative was completely and utterly inconceivable.

I would be sent back to the psychiatric hospital immediately.

But when I pinched myself, I didn't wake up.

And so that left me with only one explanation.

Edward Anthony Mason had not died five years ago.

Blood was in my eyes, a body lay nearby. But I did not notice.

Edward was alive.

* * *

**A/N:** And so my second fic begins. I promise chapters one and two will go up this week. Because I know the prologue was kinda cryptic. And I'm excited about this story--I want you guys to know the bigger picture soon! Hope you're left feeling intrigued! Let me know with a comment! And hello to any of you who may have read Sleeping to Dream...I missed you guys!


	2. Chapter 1 Failed Attempt

_Five years._

The two words echoed in my mind as I scanned my closet and zeroed in on the outfit Alice and I had agreed on during lunch earlier this afternoon.

I pushed the words from my head quickly, at the same time physically pushing away hangers of clothes to get to the white tank-top I was eyeing.

Tonight was about not fixating on that day all those years ago and instead celebrating how far I had come—and Alice, apparently, had just the plan in mind, as she had not so calmly explained to me earlier today.

"A new club!" she had exclaimed, waving a bright orange flier in my face as we crossed the quad, our refcently purchased lunches in hand, searching for our own piece of grass on the crowded lawn. It was a surprisingly warm spring day in Seattle and every student on campus was taking advantage, exposing bits of excited white skin to the welcome rays of sun. Alice and I were no different, I noticed, as we rolled up our t-shirt sleeves.

"So we get Rosalie and Angela in on this, maybe invite out Jessica and Lauren—yes, no? Okay, no Jessica and Lauren," decided Alice quickly after one look at my face. "We meet at my place for drinks, dress up in out slut-day best, and we dance away the night! How much fun does that sound like?" Alice Cullen practically erupted with enthusiasm as she threw her backpack on the grass beside me where I was already tilting my pale skin up to warm sunrays. I pulled my sandwich from its plastic wrap and wrinkled my nose at Alice slightly.

"Ugh. Alice, you know I'm so much more boring than that. I vote popcorn, pj's and a game of Cranium at my place," I replied with a grin.

Alice rolled her eyes.

"And we're in bed by 10? Come on, Bella. We haven't gone out in forever. We need this. You need this," I glanced up at my best friend, noting her tone change. Her face had softened, her enthusiasm had vanished. In her eyes, I read a familiar pity I wished I was used to getting. I prayed silently that she wouldn't bring it up. Not the actual event, and definitely not the camera men and radio stations with no lives and no better story than a "Where is she now?"

_Five years_ whispered my mind.

I quickly shut my eyes, grinding my palms into my eyelids.

_What if. If only._

Not today, I refused to be consumed by it today.

"Fine! But I have final say on my outfit. And I will not leave your house looking like a hooker. Not after _last_ time."

Alice sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation, but I knew she was secretly pleased. Usually, I wasn't such a pushover. But today was different. Today, I just didn't have the energy or motivation to duke it out with Alice.

Not when I knew I'd eventually give in. Because she was right. It was exactly what I needed.

** *

And so there I was, hours later, ignoring those two persistent words, and guiding my decrepit truck over to Alice's apartment.

I didn't bother knocking--I could hear music blaring from her apartment from the elevator. _Lucky neighbors_, I thought with a sympathetic grimace, glancing at the closed doors around the apartment Alice shared with her brother Emmett.

I stepped in, shutting the door quickly behind me.

"Bella..ella..ella…oh..oh!" sang Alice, dancing her way over to me, singing into a beer bottle to Rihanna's song Umbrella.

I groaned and glanced over Alice's shoulder, throwing Angela Weber a smile.

"How long has she been torturing you with her "club" music?" I joked, pulling off my light button-up coat and dumping my purse onto the coffee table.

"She promised she'd play whatever I wanted after I finish three margaritas," replied Angela, sipping her drink cautiously.

"I do believe she's trying to get you drunk, my dear," I replied laughing. I put my arm around Angela sympathetically, giving her shoulder a playful squeeze. Angela was a great friend. I had met her a couple of years ago in a literature class here in Seattle and she'd wound up completely balancing out Alice, Rosalie Hale, and I.

"Wait, wait, wait! Bella-Ella, stand up. I haven't had a chance to inspect our outfit!" ordered Alice, her beer microphone quickly forgotten.

I knew better than to argue, so I stood up, gave a quick pirouette and struck a dramatic pose, my hands on my jutted-out hips, courtesy of watching too much America's Next Top Model with Rosalie. Angela giggled from the couch.

Over lunch, we had compromised finally on a pair of dark-wash low-rise jeans, a silky white tank-top, with my black riding boots (a Christmas present from Alice). Alice had tried to gently bribe me into a long silver necklace and some cute black earrings she owned, but I refused to part with the delicate chain that hung around my neck. The chain that held the silver ring.

_Five years ._And yet, I still couldn't do it. I had only been without that chain for two months of my life. The two months I had been forced to leave it behind. The two months, coincidently, when I had met Alice.

"You look good, Swan. You look damn good," smiled Alice, her eyes shining slightly as our gazes met.

She had never known him and yet she knew. She'd always known the importance of this day. The difficulty, the pain.

"She cleans up nice, doesn't she?" spoke a new voice. Rosalie Hale emerged from the back hallway, looking every bit her super-model self. Dressed in tight jeans and a revealing black halter-top, Rosalie still could not look slutty. She was much too elegantly beautiful.

"Hey Rosalie. You don't look so bad yourself," I commented, noting with amusement that Rosalie was drinking her signature rum and coke from a crystal wine glass.

"Where's Emmett?" I asked, accepting a beer from Alice and sinking back down on the overstuffed couch beside Angela.

Alice made a face at Rosalie.

"Ask her. I can't keep track of my brother anymore. Usually I'd just say he's at Rose's…but she's here and he's not…"

Rosalie rolled her eyes right back at Alice.

"He's out with the guys," she responded.

Rosalie had been dating Emmett Cullen, Alice's brother and current roommate, for a couple of years now, and Alice still pretended to be annoyed by it. But really, she loved them together.

"You guys, it's almost ten!" exclaimed an obviously buzzed Angela, quickly chugging back the last of her margarita. "Let's go! I wanna be dancing!"

I laughed, taking a few quick swallows of my beer as the girls all grabbed shoes and purses.

Though I wouldn't know for awhile, is night would become pivotal ways I never would have imagined.

***

"What's the name of this place again?" slurred Angela from beside me at the booth we had managed to snag. It was about 11:30pm and the place was completely packed.

"Diabla's," replied Rosalie, sipping her rum and coke.

"Bella-Ella, you were moving out there!" grinned Alice as she slipped back in beside me in the booth. "Are you drunk?" she giggled, slinging her arm around my shoulders.

"Not as drunk as you," I replied, amused.

I was feeling good. I'd had a few more drinks since we'd arrived at Diabla's about an hour and a half ago. I wasn't drunk, but I was at my happy place. Now if only I can maintain this, the night will be a success.

I knew only too well what not enough alcohol could do on this day and even worse, I knew what too much alcohol could do.

I wanted to stay exactly where I was.

"Ahh, excuse me ladies, but that group of guys over there sent these martini's over to you," spoke a waitress grinning and waving her hand at a table across the room filled with a bunch of men dressed in suits.

"Ohhh, classy guys!"Alice giggled and grabbed one of the drinks off the tray, raised the martini glass towards the grinning men in thanks, and took a gulp.

Angela followed Alice's action, giggling happily, but Roaslie just rolled her eyes.

It wasn't rum and coke.

Alice handed me a martini and claimed Rosalie's drink for herself.

"That was nice of them!" exclaimed Angela. "Maybe we should go over there and thank them!"

"I'm sure they would love that," I commented under my breath. But I couldn't hold back a laugh at my friend's overenthusiastic drunknessness. Usually fairly shy and quiet, Angela was always the most out of character when she drank.

"Come on Bella!" yelled Alice over the music as she and Angela finished off their martini's and jumped to their feet.

"You guys go ahead, Rose and I are going to dance," I smiled sweetly at Rosalie, knowing she'd be thrilled to be my escape plan.

"I do like this song," she admitted grudgingly as I pulled at her arm.

There was no way I wanted to be trapped talking to a bunch of guys in suits looking to get laid. As Rosalie and I made our way to the packed dance floor, I kept my eye on our drunken friends as they scooted into the Suit Guys booth.

I sighed.

It would probably be hard to get them back now.

I shrugged, drained my martini and danced with Rosalie, admiring the seamless way she moved and attracted attention without seeming to notice…though I knew she did. She adored the attention, despite her complete dedication to Emmett.

I was starting to feel a little bit more than tipsy as we walked back to our booth. Alice and Angela were still with the Suits, Alice chatting up a gorgeous blond man. I watched as she threw her head back, laughing in response to something he had said. I frowned slightly, furrowing my brow in concentration. Had I seen him somewhere before?

As Alice spoke to him, I realized too late that I had made the mistake of meeting her gaze.

"Bella-Ella! Come here!"

Somehow, I could hear her over the music.

Feeling a little less than perfect, I grabbed my stuff and glanced at Rosalie.

"I'll go over and say bye. I'm beat and I think I may have drunk too much," I smiled wryly. Rosalie shrugged.

"This place kinda sucks. I'm right behind you."

We made our way to the booth holding our ridiculously drunk friends and I smiled the best I could at the Suits.

"Bella! These are our new friends. They work for the police!" yelled Angela, her smile huge as she squeezed the hand of the guy beside her. He smiled at me and winked. I shuddered slightly, making a mental note to save Angela before she did something stupid. He was very obviously a total meat-head.

"Bella…! You have to meet Jasper! He's—I dreamed of him. He's—well, I think he's the one I've been dreaming about forever!" Alice shouted towards me, her eyes bright. She turned her head, looking right and then left, scanning.

"But where did he go? Hey, where's Jasper?" asked Alice to the Suit next to her. I realized the blond had not been with the other Suits when Rosalie and I had walked up seconds ago.

"I think he took off. Jasper doesn't usually stay at these places long. But maybe you could introduce me to your friend," I wrinkled my nose rudely at the leering man and looked back at Alice, who was looking distraught.

"Al, I'm going to head out. You ready to go home?"

She nodded, looking so crestfallen. Whoever this guy had been, he must have actually made an impression. Alice was a flirt, but she was generally never serious about random bar guys.

"Come on, Ang, let's get your stuff and go," spoke Rosalie, helping Angela up.

"Aww, you ladies can't leave yet, we were just getting to know one another," said the Suit that had been beside Angela.

"Call me, Mike!" laughed Angela, as Rosalie dragged her towards the door. I linked arms with Alice as she shrugged on her jacket.

I tried to ignore one of the guys as he openly stared at me.

"I know you from somewhere…"he mused.

"Please don't say your dreams, "I responded with a small snicker. Sadly, I'd heard that one used on Rosalie a few weeks ago.

"No, no! You were on tv today…right! You're the girl who—"

I grabbed Alice's arm and took off after Rosalie and Angela.

"Sorry, Bella," said Alice quietly as we slipped into the cab Rosalie had flagged. "You didn't have fun, did you?" she asked sadly, her arm around my shoulders.

"I had as much fun as I could have on a day like today, Al. Thanks," I replied, putting my head on her shoulder.

"Love you, Bella," she said softly. I knew where her thoughts were.

"I love you too, Bella!" chimed in Angela from the passengers where she was bouncing up and down to the Hindi music. "Turn it up!" she called to the cab driver, who complied with a tolerant smile.

I rolled my eyes and but glanced expectantly at Rosalie.

"And overinflate your ego? I don't think so," she joked, but blew me a kiss from the other side of Alice.

Once at Alice's, I convinced everyone to chug back some water, then we got into out pj's…and crashed. I took the couch, Rosalie headed to Emmett's room and Angela and Alice piled into Alice's bed.

Sleep evaded me, as I knew it would. Inevitably, my thoughts turned to exactly what I had been avoiding--and before long, I felt a few tears escape, my throat tightening up. I clutched the ring that hung around my neck, desperately fighting back the pain.

The what if's and if only's. They were coming, I could feel it.

_It's been five years, Bella,_ I chastised myself. _Five years. Stop crying._

I could pretend all I wanted. I could go out with Alice and get drunk. I could smile and laugh and use sarcasm. I could eat and converse and date. But the truth remained; I was still broken.

And I knew there was only one thing that would make the pain lessen for another year. I'd done it four times before.

I would have to do it again.

I got up as quietly as I could, slipping back into my bar clothes and boots. I grabbed my keys and purse and, after a second, grabbed a pen and scrawled a note quickly on Alice's pad near the phone.

_Couldn't sleep, headed home._

_Call you tomorrow, B._

Maybe now Alice wouldn't kill me for leaving. At least I hadn't had much to drink—at this point, I was perfectly sober.

And, I reassured myself, I wasn't lying exactly. I was headed home.

Forks had been home long before Seattle ever was. I cringed as I started up my truck, the engine as loud as ever. I reflexively glanced up at Alice and Emmett's patio door. No movement.

I wasn't sure how long I would feel the need to visit Edward Masen's grave, but tonight, I had to go.

* * *

**A/N:** Yup, I promised chapter one, and here it is! Thank you guys for the warm welcome-backs! And to anyone new, I'd love to hear from you (and thanks for clicking on my story!)

So...what do you think of chapter one? We're getting some quick views of our characters. Chapter two will reveal a whole lot more from someone elses' perspective :) And what that someone may be up to...


	3. Chapter 2 Decoy

Chapter Two-Decoy

Edward Masen, 2009. Before.

I stuck to the shadows, crossed the empty street quickly, and glanced one last time over my shoulder.

Good. No one following. I was in the clear.

With a small exhalation, I switched directions and darted down a dark alley. Finally I could pull down the hood that had been shadowing most of my face. I shrugged off a black leather jacket, draped it over my left shoulder and dug into my black messenger bag, pulling out a light brown leather jacket, much more worn. I pulled my right arm through one armhole, grabbed the other jacket and shoved it into the bag, then swiftly thrust my left arm into the brown jacket and pulled it tight against my body.

I felt like me again.

I ran a hand through my hair, attempting to shake it lose from the gel that had been holding it slicked back.f

I hated having to go through the steps, but it was protocol. Carelessness had proven deadly and I had learned my lesson early on. Protocol had never let me down.

Stuffing my hands in my dark wash jeans, I quickened my pace again, all my senses completely alert despite my lowered head.

I felt my cell-phone vibrating from my back pocket, but it had to wait. I was almost there.

A quick look to my left and then right told me I was still in the clear. I rapped rhythmically on the warehouse door in front of me, silently counting the seconds and then rapped a couple more times.

I hoped they hadn't changed the pattern. It was all I could do to remember from week to week, month to month.

But, it was all part of protocol.

A grizzled man peered out at me, carefully examining my face as he always did. I wasn't sure why—they knew long before the door was opened exactly who was there and why. Searching for plastic surgery scars? Could anyone ever be that desperate to find out who we were? So desperate they would go under the knife to take on another identity?

Of course.

Cameras? They were fucking everywhere. Not long ago, I'd spotted one a good mile from the warehouse. I knew it was theirs. They were the most carefully run operation I'd been involved with yet.

"Get your ass in here, Decoy."

I only knew the man as Grizz, just as he knew me only as Decoy. In this world, we lose our names pretty fast. Sometimes, we have to die in order to live. It's the safest way.

It's the only way.

I nodded at him quickly and made my way past him into the building.

I always found myself surprised when I entered this place, which I did after every job. It was un-like any headquarters I'd ever seen. It was clean, for one. But it was also…classy. As I stepped into the largest room, I allowed my eyes to wander the décor. Modern. Classy. Elegant.

So fucking weird.

Maybe my people were finally rolling in cash.

I smirked at the thought.

"Decoy, my man. Success?" spoke a voice from behind me.

"Need you ask?" I answered and turned, carefully pulling out the cloth wrapped gun from my bag and handing it to Jonze.

"I knew you were the one for the job. Jimmy watched it all go down. Said it was beautiful; you set the scene like a pro, D," Jonze handed the gun off to a gorgeous woman standing behind him. She smiled at me slightly, then turned and walked away. I watched her hips sway until she disappeared.

I shifted my eyes back to Jonze.

Jonze. He had found me, recruited me, and trained me. I mean, really trained me. Now middle-aged, the former Black ops military man was known for his knack for spotting talent. He must have researched the shit out of me before even approaching me that day two years ago. Though it was never verbally spoken of, I didn't doubt for a second he knew everything he possibly could about me. Which couldn't have been much.

There were very few who knew about Edward Masen and his relation to Decoy. I didn't know if Jonze was one of them; he would have never let on. Those that did know would not be inclined to talk of his death.

Of my death.

What I _was_ sure of was the manila envelope sealed and locked away in one of the most secure offices in the United States.

I'm not egotistical enough to think I'm that important. But I do know that if the wrong person found out about my past, shit may very well hit the fan. The very worst kind of shit, on the very highest power setting. It would be messy.

Jonze pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. I was beyond the point where I thought I had to count the stack of bills. Instead, I nodded and shoved it into my messenger bag, safe in assuming that my thousands were properly accounted for.

"We've got another assignment we're working on for you, D, my man. You going to be ready? About a week 'till K-Day. It's big, too. Boss has said specifically that he only wants you on the job," Jonze looked at me and, not for the first time, I saw a twinge of uncertainty in his eye.

I'd seen it before; I just had yet to figure out exactly what it meant.

"Yeah man. You know how to get a hold of me," I nodded again, wanting the look to disappear.

"Yeah, yeah. Good D, good. Lay a bit low this week, take it easy. After this next job, we need to let you have some time off. You're looking fucking tired."

I smirked at that.

Concerned about me. Ha. What a fucking joke.

"Call me when you need me," was all I replied, turning my back to Jonze and heading back out the way I had come in.

Grizz opened the door for me and glared as I left.

"Watch yourself, kid. Get some fucking sleep." I turned to look at him, but he closed the door in my face.

What the fuck? Did I look that destroyed?

I pulled up the collar of my jacket against the cold Seattle wind and turned back towards the city lights. My Volvo was not far from here and I walked quickly.

Before long, I was back in my sanctuary; a loft apartment in a non-descript building not far from downtown. It did what it needed to do, but it also provided me with some sort of a comfort. A comfort I had never known I needed until I had it.

The hard wood floors reminded me of different times. Happier times. And the windows provided me with the light I needed to make it in this life. I knew from the past that the darkness was always been quick to claim me. Or had I always just been quick to allow it?

I threw my keys onto the marbled kitchen island and pulled open the fridge.

Scanning quickly, I grabbed a carton of noodles and a carton of sweet and sour chicken. Left over Chinese food. There was nothing like it.

I found a pair of chopsticks buried deep within a drawer and finally sank back into the black leather couch that sat in front of the flat panel television hooked on the wall above my entertainment system.

I flipped randomly through the channels, as I unceremoniously slurped my noodles.

It was 5:34am and I really didn't expect there to be much on. I stopped on a news station to see if my handiwork had made a wave yet.

Fucking commercials.

I tensed when I heard a quiet noise at the kitchen window, reflexively grasping the chopsticks.

After a frozen beat, I realized with a grin who it was.

"Fucking Mooch. You're always right on time, you bastard," I saw her little black head peering into the window, her green eyes bright.

I chuckled affectionately as I unlatched the window and the small cat jumped onto my shoulder, purring happily.

She had found her way up the fire-escape to my fifth floor apartment about six months ago. I'd ignored her at first. Feeding the cat would only encourage it to rely on me. And I knew how that turned out. Never good for any involved. But she was insistent. And I quickly realized that she didn't show up for food. She always seemed well fed and full whenever she came by. I had come to the conclusion that she was a pretty self-reliant street cat.

She was just lonely--and more like me than I first cared to admit.

I called her Mooch and she joined me most nights/early mornings to hang out.

I made my way back to the couch with Mooch on my shoulder. She climbed onto the back of the couch and settled down near my head, stretching herself out, her purr quieting, but never disappearing.

I rolled my eyes and cranked up the volume as the news anchor started to speak.

She blabbed on about some burglaries and a couple other petty crimes. I yawned and put her on mute, my eyes drooping slightly, the early morning events finally casting their effects on my body.

I must have fallen into a light sleep, because when Mooch growled low in her throat, I snapped my head groggily.

I blinked my eyes quickly, finally focusing on Mooch sitting directly in front of the TV, making that really odd throaty noise cats tend to make when they're pissed. She was staring directly at the TV.

I glanced up to see what was causing her to freak out.

The surprise that greeted me nearly knocked me off of the couch.

There, in the left-hand corner of the television screen, was a picture of me.

For a moment, I thought that was it. My foggy mind expected a mob of angry bad guys to barge in that very second and beat the shit out of me. And the cops to deny my existence, instead allowing me to be punished for the very things they'd asked of me.

But then I realized two things.

One: that the snapshot was of sixteen year old me—sixteen year old Edward Masen, to be exact. Probably the last picture anyone had ever taken of me, at least, for fun. And two: I realized what day it was. I had hoped to miss the day all together. And I almost had, this news story had to have been repeated from last night.

My heart sped up and I slowly un-muted the TV.

I didn't want to—but I had to.

"…tragic story of a life over much too soon. Edward Masen had been relatively new to the small town of Forks. He had only lived there under two years before the car accident that claimed his life. It's been five years now, since Masen passed away, but the town still remembers the quiet boy who was so full of warmth and sincerity."

I watched in a frozen, sick fascination as faces I had once known flashed across the screen.

"Edward was such a nice guy. I was never one of the most popular kids at school, but he always stopped to talk to me or invite me out. I can't believe it's been five years. Seems like only yesterday we were all at the prom together."

His name escaped me, but the memory did not. I squeezed my eyes closed a moment.

Please, please don't say her name.

Please.

Next face.

"He was smart. He was in my AP chemistry class and always blew me away. I remember how badly I felt for those parents of his. They couldn't bear to stay here in Forks. They moved away right after the funeral. So sad."

I couldn't help but sneer. Parents. Right.

Mr. Bannerman had no clue. None of them did. Another girl began to speak.

"I remember him and Bella. All the girls were so jealous of her when they started dating. Edward started out as quiet and kind of unfr—just really quiet. But after he and Bella got together, he completely changed—he was a great guy. It was so sad after he died, we all just couldn't believe it. I always kind of wonder what happened to Bella after they put her in the—"

The girls voice trailed off as she looked away.

"We wondered too and so we decided to find out," the news anchor came back on and I fought furiously with myself to just turn off the TV and walk the other way.

I already knew this story.

But I couldn't.

Bella.

"After the death of her boyfriend, horror-stricken 17 year old Bella Swan was soon admitted to a near-by psychiatric hospital for evaluation and treatment. She stayed there for a couple of months and then seemed to disappear from the public eye. But now, five years later, we found that Bella, now 22, is a senior enrolled at University of Washington. We could not get an interview with Ms. Swan, but sources are saying that she's doing very well and is a model student, who is actively involved in the school newspaper."

The camera cut again to another scene, this time it looked to be taken on a busy university campus. I squinted my eyes as a figure breezed by the camera.

It was her.

Bella.

It had been three years since I'd seen her with my own eyes, but that was definitely her.

I hit pause, knowing I would later regret this.

Perfect. She was more beautiful than ever.

Her mahogany locks hung long and silky down her back. Her skin looked as pale as she'd always been, but she glowed, even through the TV, Bella was glowing. Her eyes—they were hard to see, as she ducked her head forward—but I knew the exact shade they must have been. I knew the depths of her warm chocolate eyes would never change.

I un-paused the TV and watched as the camera man followed her across the green grass and to the parking lot. Beside her, a tiny short haired brunette shot the camera man furious looks.

Alice Cullen, I knew. Bella's best friend.

They had met in the psychiatric hospital.

I felt a knot swell up in my stomach and I quickly pressed the "off" button. How could I have been so stupid? I knew the date was coming; that's why I had kept so busy, taken all these jobs.

I didn't want to have to remember.

Five years.

Knowing she was healthy and happy had been enough for me.

Three years ago, I had stopped seeing that for myself and had instead relied on Jasper Whitlock to assure me, on a monthly basis, that she was fine. Happy, even. That she had moved on with her life, that I had become merely a sad momentary memory of the past. Perhaps even an annoying memory, when the camera's made their visit every year around the same date to gawk.

I allowed my head to fall into my hands, my shoulders slumped.

But I refused to play the "what if" game. Not today.

Not when I already knew where I would wind up.

From the kitchen island, my cell phone buzzed a reminder of the calls I had missed earlier in the night and I distracted myself with checking messages.

Attempting to block memories of her mahogany strawberry scented hair from my mind, I listened patiently as my landlord reminded me about some renovations the building would be undergoing in a few days. I deleted the message and hit next.

I recognized Jasper Whitlock's voice immediately.

"My man--we've got a problem."

* * *

**A/N:** *deep breath* And so there that is. Whatdja think? Surprised? Shocked? Annoyed? Happy? Tell me in a note!


	4. Chapter 3 Problem

Chapter 3- The Problem

Edward/Decoy, 2009. Before.

* * *

It hadn't been planned for that day; not really. It had been planned, yes. It was to happen soon, yes. But that day? I had had no idea.

"It'll seem more real this way—if you don't know when it's going to happen. Trust us—we'll take care of everything. All you have to do is die. And then disappear from these people's lives forever."

It had seemed easy enough at first, and in the early days, I did not care. I had a mission; I was focused only on that. Forever meant nothing to me—forever was just a meaningless word.

What was going on behind the scenes was all secondary to me; they would take care of the details. And I would do my job.

And I did--a damn good one at that.

But Edward Masen had to die, and I had known that from the beginning. It had been part of the deal; I had made promises in exchange for revenge. I had sold my soul, but at that time, it didn't matter. Edward Masen, the happy, carefree teenager had died when my parents were taken from me. What had been left, no one would ever miss.

Until, that is, I met her. Suddenly, forever took on a new meaning.

I had tried not to fall for her. When I had seen her, that very first day? I had been floored by her beauty, her open, friendly face, her smile. But I had walked on by with a quick glare, not showing even a hint of what I had seen in her. By that time, I was an expert at masking. So I hurt her. She was the kind of girl Edward Masen would have talked to, flirted with, dated…and though I still technically was Edward Masen, my priorities had had to change drastically. There was no room for friends during this job.

It had been a big job, and my first. It took me ten months to achieve my goal. And then, when the job was over, I had ten more months to wait to be extracted, to say goodbye to Edward Masen--to be killed. To leave everything I had been, everything I had known, behind for good. At the time, right after I was done my job, 10 months had seemed an eternity. I just wanted out of my life. I was anxious to close the chapter on poor, heartbroken Edward.

"It's a process," they'd told me, "If you leave now, if we kill you now, there may be suspicion associated with your death. We can't have that, we have to wait. So just enjoy high school. Enjoy being yourself for awhile. Because when Edward Masen dies, it has to be forever."

She hadn't ever given up on me and I wasn't sure why. I had missed a lot of school because of the job. Even on those sporadic school days in the first few months, she continued to try. She would smile at me in the hallway, say hi to me in class. I continued to ignore her, but it had become more difficult. I wouldn't admit it to myself at the time, but it was like moth to a flame. It was incredibly hard to stay away from her. Isabella Swan had stolen something in me early on. I would never get it back.

When I had left Chicago for Forks, they had set me up with "godparents". Though the exact circumstances of my parent deaths were shielded from the public, everyone back home was aware they'd died suddenly and tragically. Godparents in Forks had served as the perfect excuse to get me close to my target…and my lack of actual relatives meant no one would question a thing.

After the job, when I came back to school full time, I couldn't help but allow myself to be enchanted with her. Despite knowing better, I found myself wanting to know everything about her. I wanted to spend all my time with her; it really didn't even matter what we were doing. I just had to be close to her. She made me feel alive again, she ignited pieces of me I thought had died when my parents were murdered.

She made me feel more alive than I had ever felt. Ever.

I fell in love with her.

And then, I got caught up in thinking I actually could have a normal life with her. With my Bella. And suddenly, I found myself wanting out. I didn't want to leave her; I didn't want Edward Masen to have to die, not anymore. But I was in too deep, and they reminded me of that when I found myself pleading with the boss. Pleading to get out of the deal, pleading for my life back.

Pleading for my soul.

But it was too late, and I had known it—the deal had been made so many months ago, my name, signed in blood. They had quickly reminded me who was in charge; the cuts and bruises hadn't disappeared for weeks.

And so instead, I was left waiting for my ultimate death, not knowing when it would occur, but knowing it would be soon. Every day I wanted to tell her who I really was, I desperately wanted her to know why I was there and that when I disappeared I wanted her to know it _wouldn't _be forever. That I would come back to her, that I would find a way.

I had been so naïve back then.

And then, the day arrived. I didn't know it would be the day, but I had woken up with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The beach. They'd let me have one last day with her. I doubt it was on purpose, but I was grateful all the same. I had given her the ring, just in time. Perhaps it had been a horrible mistake, but I had to. I had to leave her with a piece of me.

"This is just…I love you, Bella. I wanted to show you how much," I had said, slipping the ring on her right index finger, surprised it had fit so perfectly. The claddagh ring had belonged to my mother. It had been the one thing I had returned for as my childhood home burnt to the ground, their dead bodies inside. The two hands holding the heart was the only possible thing I could leave her with to describe how I felt, how I would always feel. But that day, I didn't tell her about the inscription; she would find it eventually.

_My heart, forever. Keep it safe._

They were good at what they did, I'd give them that. It took me awhile to figure out how they'd even pulled it off. We were in the jeep I'd been driving on our way back to her house, our fingers entwined. She had been laughing at something I'd said when the other car struck, hitting my side of the car.

The last thing I can remember is her hand being pulled from my own. And then I woke up in their hospital, covered in cuts and new bruises.

They had planned it carefully. She couldn't die and of course, if I'd really died, there would be a whole set of different problems waiting for them. I needed to look dead, but remain alive.

The solution came in the form of a pill. Developed by the military and only used a few times in the Middle East, this pill would successfully shut down the subject's body for one hour. For sixty minutes my heart was not beating, my lungs were not working and my blood was not pumping. Long enough to fool the people of Forks and just long enough for them to pull me out of there.

Long enough for Edward Masen to die, and for this newer, darker version to be born.

Yes, it had all worked out wonderfully.

When I had recovered and ultimately been "let go" from that particular operation, I was much richer and very much alone.

I worked on my own for awhile, taking small jobs here and there, staying low and leaving the state. I couldn't be around the painful memories and Los Angeles was the perfect place to be anyone. I could disappear in LA; I could forget who I wasn't anymore.

Soon--though I tried to hang low and go unnoticed, my reputation and skill grew and I became known as Decoy, which was more than fitting. Decoy: something used to lure victims into danger. Or in my case, someone.

Two years ago, I was recruited by Jonze who convinced me to head back up to Seattle were his operation needed someone like me.

I had agreed.

I'm not sure why, exactly, as I knew that she had made Seattle her home almost two years ago. It was risky to walk the same streets as her, but I realized, even if she saw me (which was already unlikely, given the parts of the city I frequented) she would not recognize me.

I had become a monster, and I knew it showed.

She could walk right by me on the street and not take a second glance.

She had known me as a clean cut looking sixteen year old: short hair, bright eyes, totally in love. Not what I had become--not the twenty-one year old with the wild hair, the dark, cold eyes. Not the man with the hardened face, the killer's hands. She would not know this man.

And so I left LA for Seattle.

Jonze's operation was smooth and I transitioned easily. I had not worked steadily for one operation since I was sixteen, but this one suited me. I knew their purpose well, and I supported their cause—though I always insisted upon remaining a free agent. Never again did I want to compromise myself to being controlled by another. I wanted to be able to walk away at the drop of a hat.

My one remaining tie to Edward Masen was through Jasper Whitlock. He was FBI, but I didn't let that get to me. We had both been young and in danger when we first met, our situations and eventual outcomes not all that different—we both dealt with right and wrong. Jasper just happened to be the voice and face of the law, whereas I acted as…the underground police, trying to right the wrongs in my own way, in the way that I learned could be acceptable…but never, ever talked about. Jasper was what I could have been, had I not plead for my life back, five years ago. Had I not broken some unwritten agreement and been deemed "unacceptable" and "dangerous".

Few knew my story, but Jasper knew. He was my one friend, the one person I could trust in the dismal life I now led. When I had approached him about keeping an eye on Bella three years ago after I'd realized I could no longer do it, he hadn't even hesitated. He was working out of Seattle anyways, and I wasn't yet there.

He had agreed immediately, just as sincerely as he had when Bella was institutionalized. I had needed someone to go inside and make sure she was okay, make sure she would get out. And Jasper had done exactly that.

And so, when I heard his words on the other end of the phone at 6:13am, the day after my five year anniversary of being dead, I knew this was no joke.

We met up at the seediest bar in Seattle. Despite its total slumminess, it was the perfect place for Jasper and I to meet. Nobody would know us. Nobody would recognize us. And the place literally never closed. That worked for our often early morning conferences.

Jasper was already there when I entered the decrepit bar, mug of beer between his hands, seated in a corner booth.

"Hiya Suagr. The usual?" asked the bartender as I strode towards Jasper, arching a gray eyebrow at me.

"Yeah. Thanks." The regular was really just whatever she felt like pouring me. She never remembered my brand of preferred beer--not that it mattered. I was not there for the five star service.

"Jasper," I greeted him, my eyes quickly reading his face. He looked tired; his bloodshot eyes drooped a little, bags highlighted his face.

"E," he replied. He had never called me Edward, not even when I was Edward. But E worked; and it didn't have to change after I died.

"What the fuck, man? You look like shit," I said, giving the bartender a nod of thanks as she handed me a scotch glass. I smirked at the drink. I hated scotch.

"I feel like shit. Sick," he drawled lightly, his southern accent vaguely discernable.

"I won't keep you long. What the hell is up?"

"I met Alice Cullen last night."

I froze. I had not expected that.

Jasper sighed.

"Met some guys at a new club last night after work. I got there and they were chatting up a couple of girls. I didn't recognize her at first but then she introduced herself. At first, I didn't think there could possibly be any harm in talking to her, until she called Bella over. E, I took off, but Bella saw me…I think she recognizes me. I'm sure she has no clue why she recognizes me, but I know she did. I saw that flicker in her eyes."

I was quiet for a second as my heart beat painfully in my chest, picturing the scene. Picturing her face.

"I'm not sure I see the problem. She doesn't know who you are, it was just a random run in. That shit happens, I'd been prepared for the possibility."

"Yeah. The problem is actually with me. This is going to sound all kinds of fucked-up, but I felt something inexplicable with Alice Cullen. I know how that sounds, E, but she…there's something about her. I'm not sure I can be on Bella-patrol anymore. Not if…not if my gut is right about Alice," Jasper stared at me seriously, his eyes seeming to convey an entirely different message.

"You think I should leave her alone," I guessed, my voice flat.

"I know what happened sucked. More than sucked, I know it's done bad things to you. But it's been five years, my man, and you're never going to move on until you stop," replied Jasper hesitantly.

"I don't think," I started out, my voice low, my eyes carefully trained on the glass of scotch, "I don't think I can stop. She's all that I care about in my fucked up world, Jasper. Knowing she's okay, knowing that she's happy—it's what I live for. I don't think I can _not_ know." I'd never been more honest with Jasper.

He nodded slowly, taking a swallow of beer.

"So you'll just keep doing this? For the rest of your life? The rest of her life?"

"Until I can't anymore," I responded. How pathetic I was. How horribly sad I was.

_My heart forever. Keep it safe._

"If I stop doing this for you, E, who will?"

"I don't know. Me."

"It's too dangerous. This is all going to explode in your face. What if she sees you? You going to allow her to be sent back to the fucking hospital?" Jasper was getting angry now. I knew this day would come. I didn't know it would be this soon, but I knew Jasper would one day want out.

"She won't see me."

"She saw you once," Jasper answered, gripping his mug tightly. "And it nearly drove her mad."

"I let her see me. I fucked up, but it had been my choice to let her see me. That won't happen again."

"There aren't any guarantees."

"I'm careful. You know I am, Jasper. I wouldn't do that to her again."

"Fuck, E! Five fucking years. Let her go!"

My shoulders slumped and I gripped a hand in my hair, pulling, pulling.

"I can't," I whispered.

I sat there, feeling Jasper's stare, but not able to look up.

"One more month, man. That's all I can offer you. One more report and I'm done," Jasper finally said.

I nodded, not looking up.

"One more month," I agreed, feeling defeated.

"E," he started, his tone pleading. I held up a hand, glancing quickly up at his face. Apologetic.

"Jasper. It's okay. I know. I knew you couldn't do this forever. Doesn't change us, man. But be careful. With Alice, I mean. She's Bella's best friend. If she ever finds out what's gone on, the part you've played…" I trailed off, realizing the potential severity of the situation. What if Jasper and Alice did form a relationship? How the hell would he deal with the things he knew? And where the hell would that leave Jasper and I? How could I be around him, knowing he saw Bella every day? Knowing he got to talk to her?

"She couldn't. Unless I told her."

I looked at him carefully.

"If things do…happen, Jasper, I think we'll have to go our separate ways."

"There are a lot of if's in this equation, E. Let's let it play out before making any decisions." That was Jasper. The diplomat.

I nodded. If Jasper and Alice…he would get to see Bella. Talk to her. As himself. He would get to hang out with her, laugh with her. He would get to be friends with Bella. Jealously swallowed my heart and I pushed back on the table to stand up.

"A month, then?" I asked. I had to get out of here. I needed air.

"A month. I'll call. And I'll want to show you something, we'll have to meet somewhere more private" replied Jasper. I nodded, threw some bills on the sticky table and walked quickly to the door. We could figure that out later. The cold air hit my face and I stuffed my hands in my pockets, head down. The sun was shining brightly, despite the cold morning and I found myself wishing for the normal spring gloom. It would certainly match my mood.

What the fuck was I going to do now?

I couldn't deal with the possibility of not knowing. Not knowing would be like giving up…letting go of the most important person in my life. But was I being selfish? I asked myself that a lot. I didn't care about myself…I wouldn't ever "move on" as Jasper would put it, but what about Bella? Somehow, was I preventing her from moving on? I didn't know if that was possible, but I knew I what I was doing was not exactly right. Having her followed. Documenting her life. Her friends. Her extra-curricular activities. It wasn't like I ever intervened in her life; even when I didn't agree with her decisions, even when she had dated Jacob Black, I never once inserted my own into her life.

I had inserted myself into her life and completely fucked with her once. I couldn't let that happen again. But that brought me back to my question; was I being selfish? In the early days, I wanted to know she was safe. And then, I wanted to know that she was okay, that she had moved on from me and the accident. But then later? I ran out of excuses. I just didn't want to let her go. I could no longer convince myself that I was doing it for her…rather, I was doing it because I had to do it for me.

But was that right? Was that fair to her? I sighed, knowing I had some hard decisions to make.

It was about 11am when I arrived back at my apartment and I was beyond exhausted. And yet, when I saw the thick manila envelope that had been slid under the crack of my door, I was immediately alert. My next job already?

_Decoy_, read the letters, scrawled across the front.

Perched on my shiny black piano bench, I ripped open the envelope, quickly sliding out the gun and shoving it in a near-by drawer. A single sheet of white paper, unlined, fluttered to the floor and I quickly retrieved it.

**Subject:** James Gleason

**Age:** 36

**Occupation:** professor.

**Decoy**-Use extreme caution with this job—it's big. Gleason is a well-liked, well-respected man in Seattle. No one would guess a thing about his underground drug operations, nor his connection with the death of three young women early last year. But we have been following this for over a year, and Gleason is our confirmed target. He has protection from our "friends" in the underground drug world, therefore was never implicated.

I didn't read on, I didn't want the details. I knew enough to accept the job. So this was the big one Jonze had spoke of. I glanced through the snapshots of Gleason. Usually, my gigs involved lowlifes, scrums of the streets. Not since Forks had I engaged myself in something potentially so high profile. Not since I killed the man who was responsible for the deaths of my parents. This man, Gleason, had the same look. Clean-cut, good-looking, young and successful. And soon, dead.

Last one, then I need a break. Maybe away from Seattle for awhile.

I sighed and placed the envelope in the fireplace, setting the orange envelope and pictures on fire. Protocol, of course.

I watched the flames eat up any evidence of the man I was about to kill, my anger mounting. It was men like Gleason that had led me down this path. I was the monster I was today because of what people like him had done to innocent families like mine.

There had been one thing that had lessened that knot inside me, tamed my anger. But she was part of a different life, I life that I had said goodbye to, and I wondered if the anger would ever fade again.

* * *

**A/N** The idea for the claddagh ring came from buffy the vampire slayer. sigh. buffy and angel forever. i'll try linking a picture in my profile, but no promises...i'm not always as computer-savvy as i like to pretend:)

So...whatdja think? Talk to me about what you think of what Edward's become. And what aout Jasper's "problem"? Edward's next job? Edward's thoughts on Bella? Talk to me, me lovelies. And thank you for all the wonderful feedback! Reviews really are love.


	5. Chapter 4 Alone

**A/N: Okay, we haven't heard from Bella in a couple chapters, so just to remind you, Bella had left Alice's after a night out and was on her way to visit Edward's grave. That's all. Now go read :)**

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**Chapter Four Alone**

Bella Swan, 2009. Before.

* * *

I don't know why I'd expected there to be flowers--there never was.

If his godparents ever visited the grave, it never showed. But then, I didn't come bearing flowers myself. Who was I to criticize?

I sat down crossing my legs beneath me and looked at the small, flat stone.

Edward Anthony Masen; 1988-2004. Rest in Peace.

Simple. To the point.

I traced the letters with my finger, as I had many times before, wondering where Edward would be today had he survived the crash. Had the crash never happened.

With me?

I would never know.

Life would never be the same after Edward's death. I would never be the same, and it had taken me awhile to realize that I would never be that Bella again.

Before I had met Edward in my junior year, I had been happy with my life. I had been living in Forks with my dad for a couple of years at that point, and despite missing the Arizona sun, the small town had quickly grown on me… even the constantly rainy weather became kind of comforting. The most surprising part though, was that I had enjoyed living with Charlie, the dad who, before moving to Forks, I had come to feel I did not know anymore. Renee, my mom, had remarried. Phil was great but I knew my mom was itching to join her new husband on the road while he attempted to make a carrier out of playing for a minor league baseball team. I wasn't upset. I had realized I barely knew my father, the police chief of a small town on the Washington coast, and made the decision to let Renee and Phil have their freedom while I joined Charlie in Forks. Everyone had supported the plan, though Renee was sad.

Charlie had been ecstatic.

I smiled at the memory of Charlie's face when he picked me up at the airport, the glow of pride when he examined my report cards, and the happiness that shone through when he'd bought me my truck as a surprise sixteenth birthday present.

We had bonded, and it had been great.

School had been going well, too. Everyone had immediately wanted to be my best friend, as I was the new kid in town. I had somehow become popular without exactly knowing how. I had joined the newspaper and become the editor in just a year, completely revamping its image. I had dated a few guys, though none that really interested me. But I had been happy.

And then Edward had walked into my life.

He had literally taken my breath away. I had felt like such a bubble head at first, acting like Jessica Stanley did when she got too worked up about a guy.

But the feeling didn't ever go away, even after I'd approached him—even after he subsequently blew me off.

He didn't make many friends in his first seven or eight months at Forks High…in fact, I don't think he made any. There was darkness about him, a mystery surrounding who he was and why he kept to himself. All we had known was that his parents had died and he had moved from Chicago to Forks to live with his godparents. Most people had been offended by his silence, his lack of interest in school, and in Forks. He didn't talk much, but was in all my AP classes. If there was one thing I found out about him in those first months, it was that he was extremely smart, despite missing a lot of school.

And when he smiled, my whole world melted away. But I tried to ignore that part.

And then, just after spring break, he seemed changed. He smiled more, he was friendlier. He spoke to me in class, he laughed at my silly jokes. He even made some of his own. I would look over in class and find him staring at me. And one day, after school, my truck broke down on my way home, and Edward had been there….

I shivered slightly in the chill of the cemetery and put my arms around my small frame. Those memories were hard. But that day after school had been the end of it for me. I had fallen hard.

After that, we had about ten months together. Happiness, yes…but also something else, there had been so much more to Edward than I knew. So many small…things, things I was never able to understand. The bruises, for one. And the lies that I let slide because I knew, somehow, that the truth wasn't allowed. But I was okay with that; I thought we had time on our side and I was in love.

And then the car accident happened and Edward took his last breath in my arms, his eyes opening and then closing for the last time, his last whispering words heard only by me.

Words that still haunted me, still broke me. Hesitant, shaky, full of pain:

"_It was all real. Today wasn't—I didn't know it would be today. __It's all real. They did this, but I'm still here, always, Bella. Find me__."_

_Find me._

He was dying. His head was bleeding. But what had it all meant? In the following days and weeks after his funeral, I tortured myself with the "what if's" the "if only's" and his parting words.

And then I thought I saw him--I was so sure. In my room, I woke up and he was standing over me, his eyes…and he touched me and talked to me. He kissed me and he said goodbye. But they said I had a concussion from the accident. That I had hit my head and was suffering hallucinations…that I was merely looking for closure.

But I was sure. And I was convinced that I had to find him. He had been leaving puzzle pieces for me since we'd met and I had to put them together. I had been convinced that he was out there…that he was not really dead. So sure, in fact, that I wound up in a psychiatric hospital for evaluation. Charlie was worried about me. All I could do was babble about Edward, Edward and a conspiracy. They kept me in there for two months. Two months of medications, evaluations and recommendations. Two months of pain and darkness; but eventually, I found a light in Alice Cullen.

She had found her way to the hospital a month into my stay. Her parents were worried about her recent actions—they had wondered if she was suicidal after she was found in the woods in only a tank top and shorts that winter, talking to a frozen pond. Alice had insisted to them that she had dreamed of a voice—of a little girl who needed her help. Alice was only there for a few weeks, but we had become fast friends, relating to one another quickly. During her last week, a little girl had been found dead in the frozen pond. Alice was allowed to go home. But we had stayed in touch, our friendship blossoming, and eventually we both wound up in Seattle.

I sighed deeply. I sometimes found it truly amazing that I was where I was today—instead of the shell I had been for awhile. I knew it could have gone the other way—I knew I could have turned myself into a "lifer" and never left the hospital, retreating instead into the darkness of my pain that so wanted to claim me, clinging to the theory my mind had devised in order not to deal with Edwards's death.

And some days, I still felt that way. Some days, I would close all the blinds and hole myself up in my apartment and not answer the phone. Some days, I allowed the darkness in. Because the truth remained clear to me and on those certain days, it was overwhelming: I would never heal from what happened. I was permanently broken and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I'm not sure I wanted to be fixed. Sometimes I felt complete in my brokenness.

I had dated some. I had even found a somewhat serious boyfriend not long ago. But it had all fallen apart when he realized I was too damaged to make us work. Jacob Black and I remained friends. But I was frozen in the darkness I attempted to hide, unable to fix myself.

There was only one person who could, and he had died so long ago.

I felt my phone vibrate quietly from my bag. I fished for it quickly and glanced first at the clock. It was already past 9:30am. Exhaustion hit me as I answered Alice's call.

"Al, I'm in Forks," I said, knowing she would ask me first.

"I thought you might be, Bella. You okay?" her concerned voice answered.

"Yeah. I just…I had to," I replied, pulling out a nearby weed and twisting it between my fingers.

"I know. You'll come back today?"

"Yeah. I'll visit Charlie first, since I'm here," I answered.

" 'Kay. Give Charlie a kiss for me. And I'm sorry last night wasn't what it was supposed to be," she said, sounding excited.

"I had fun. And you had fun," I guessed.

"Bella! Did you see him? No, you didn't, that's right. It was weird, he was sitting there one second talking to me and then you came up and I turned my head for one second and he was gone. But B, he was the guy I've been dreaming about for years now, I swear. You know the one that always saves me?"

"Seriously, Al? You've been talking about that guy forever," I replied, my tone light. I knew there was more to Alice's weird dreams than most people realized. She's proved it to me way too many times for me to be doubtful. But I didn't want to encourage her, not this time. She started dreaming about this a few years ago…her Dream Guy. In her dreams, the same blond haired guy would always be saving her from something really serious; a fire, a psycho murder, a plane crash. She had convinced herself that this man was real and that one day, she would find him. I tried not to get too serious about it because I didn't know what the repercussions might be.

"I know, right! I just don't know why he left so fast. We were having an interesting conversation. I was really trying really hard not to scare him away! But anyways, he works for the Seattle police, I think. I'll track him down. There was something so inexplicable between us, Bella…I know my dreams are right," she trailed off and I smiled into the phone.

"Tell me more when I get home. I'll call you tonight."

We hung up and I slowly stood up, fidgeting with the ring around my neck. The ring I continued to wear after Edward's death. They had made me take it off when I was in the hospital. And when I finally got out…that was when I had found the inscription:

_My heart, forever. Keep it safe._

Broken all over again, I knew I would never be able to part with the ring. I wore it every day for the next few years. When I met and dated Jacob Black, I finally allowed it to hang from a chain around my neck.

Jacob had sighed but he was convinced that one day, the ring would make it to the desk drawer. I hadn't let him stick around long enough to know that would never happen. Edward had given me his heart and I had to keep it safe.

I looked one more time at the gravestone bearing Edward's name. I kissed my palm and touched his name gently and then turned away, walking back towards my truck.

I passed by the scene of the accident on my way to Charlie's, purposely not looking at the five-year old blood stain. It had never faded.

I wondered if the pain ever would.

***

"Bells? That you?" I heard Charlie call from the living room. I smiled as I closed the front door behind me. Charlie was predictable—on the weekend, he could be found fishing or watching sports. I spotted his fishing rod leaning against the hall closet. Today it must have been both.

"Hi dad, I called on my way over, but the game must have been too loud," I called towards him as I discarded my boots. Alice would probably have a heart attack at the sight of the muddy black leather. I wrinkled my nose and made a note to clean them before I left.

"If I'd known you were coming, Bells, I would have ordered a pizza or something. What are you doing in town?" Charlie appeared in the doorway and leaned down to hug me as I stepped forward, sock-footed.

"Just in the neighborhood. Oh and Alice says hi," I replied lightly, pushing back a strand of hair and avoiding his curious gaze. I walked past him and collapsed into my favorite ratty old chair. Charlie sat on the near-by couch, narrowing his eyes and hitting "mute" on the game.

"You're never "just in the neighborhood", Bells. What's up?"

I fidgeted slightly with my chain. Charlie sat back, understanding flashing across his face was he glanced at the ring.

"Ohhh. Bells. I'm sorry, I didn't even… Five years," he stated finally.

I nodded back, hoping not to get into it with him.

"I saw the news story yesterday. I can't believe that blasted channel didn't have anything better to report on than the death of a high school kid five years ago. And to go and bother you! Sorry you had to get those cameras shoved in your face again, Bells."

"It's not your fault, dad. It must have been another slow news week. Filler, I'm sure."

The words didn't ring true to me though, and I wished I knew the real reason why they came around to bother me every year.

"How was the ol' gravestone?" asked Charlie gently. It was his way of asking how I was doing. We were never exactly ones to pour out our hearts to the other. But I always knew he cared.

"Good. Clean, de-weeded. Holding up. No flowers, but it's not complaining," I replied with a wry smile. Charlie smiled back and nodded, my analogy not escaping him.

"Jacob Black still come around?" he asked curiously. Jacob had grown up on the near-by reservation and Charlie was old friends with Jake's father, Billy Black. Jake and I had known each other for a long while before we started dating almost a year ago.

"No, Dad. We broke up, remember? Think he's dating someone else now."

"You two were great together!" argued Charlie, obviously forgetting we'd already had this conversation.

"I wasn't right for him," I reminded Charlie gently. I couldn't give him what he wanted. I couldn't give him my heart, I added silently.

"Well. Jacob Black is kind of an idiot. There's someone out there for you, Bells." I smiled weakly. I tried to be as positive and happy as I could around Charlie. My two months in the hospital had been really painful for him. He didn't know how to make me better and I knew he had felt helpless when he had finally had me admitted.

"So speaking of special someone's…what's this talk I hear of you and Sue Clearwater?" I wiggled my eyebrow at him comically.

"Who's been talking?" Charlie asked, his face reddening slightly. I smiled. Topic changed; mission accomplished.

***

"So I called the police station earlier today," said Alice casually, popping a handful of popcorn in her mouth as she hung her short legs over the edge of my loveseat. I grabbed the two glasses of coke from my small kitchen island and brought them over to the coffee table.

Two days had gone by and Alice had not waited very long.

"And?" I questioned, muting the TV as I flopped down on the cushion beside Alice.

"And…nothing. They couldn't give me any information. Classified, apparently."

"That bites, Al, I'm sorry," I said as Alice swung her feet around, tucked them beneath her tiny body and faced me. Her eyes shone bright. Too bright.

"Oh, that didn't stop me, in fact…that made it a challenge. So I called back about an hour later, this time I was his landlord."

"Alice Cullen. You didn't! How did you even know he had—"

"A landlord? I didn't. But it worked! They transferred me to his line, but he wasn't there. Get this, he's a special agent for the FBI! His voice mail went a little something like this: "you have reached the voice mail of Special Agent Jasper Whitlock" dreamy!"

"Wow, seriously?" I wondered again why he had been so familiar to me. "I swear I've seen him somewhere, Al. I only caught a glimpse as I started to walk over the other night, but I've seen him somewhere before. It's driving me crazy."

"Probably out bravely protecting our country," joked Alice. I rolled my eyes.

"So? Did you leave him a message?" I asked.

"Yup! I told him I've been waiting a long time to meet him," she replied seriously.

"Alice…you're going to freak him out before he even knows you!" But I had to laugh, because Alice didn't do subtlety.

"He'll call me. I can't wait!" she threw a piece of popcorn at me and I chuckled at her eternal optimism. It was overwhelming, but I loved it.

"So what's going on with you this week? Any crazy stories you're going to be chasing?" asked Alice ducking quickly as I threw the popcorn back at her.

"Not much. Dr. G has this crazy idea about writing an expose on some of the schools secret organizations. He's convinced that there are students involved in some cult-like goings-ons. I'm supposed to start researching that," I rolled my eyes. Not one of the more genius ideas put forth by the supervising professor of the newspaper, but I was generally game for anything. Reporting, writing and editing for the newspaper always kept me busy and usually kept me sane. It was a great way to stay active and not allow myself to think about my life, or lack thereof.

"Sounds intriguing! Maybe, when Jasper calls, I can ask him if he knows anything about it," I groaned, knowing Alice would manage to bring every single conversation back to Jasper for at least the next few weeks.

"I love you, Al, but you're exhausting!" I called, as she ran to grab her vibrating phone.

"Just Emmett," she sighed, disappointed, glancing at her phone and then flipping it open.

"What?" she answered, feigning annoyance. She and Emmett were hilarious to watch interact. They loved one another dearly, but they were complete opposites and they loved to tease each other. It didn't always help that they lived together.

"You better not be, Emmett Cullen!" she shrieked into the phone. "Put Rosalie on!"

I lay back on the couch, laughing softly.

"Rose? Make sure Emmett stays away from my room!...what? Good god. I'm on my way home. The kitchen better be spotless!" Alice clicked her phone off and turned at me with a smile.

"I honestly don't know what I would do if Em and Rose ever broke up," she grabbed her purse and fished for her keys. "I'm gonna run, Bella. Emmett and his empty-threats are sometimes not so empty. And I value my wardrobe."

I laughed, not even wanting to know what Emmett was up to.

I stood up and hugged Alice then pushed her lightly towards the door.

"Call you tomorrow. Unless Jasper calls you first! Then you better call me right away!"

Alice giggled and waved, disappearing door the hallway and into the elevator singing some random song. I closed and locked the door behind her and started to clean up our mess, my mind on Alice's enthusiastic nature.

She had somehow managed to keep me sane when I felt anything but. So far from anything I had ever known, the hospital had been a nightmare in my first month there. They had me on different medications, thinking, I guess, that I would miraculously feel better and stop talking about Edward as though he was alive…as though I had to find him. I hadn't yet learned to keep it inside.

And then Alice came along. She was assigned to be my roommate. At first, I was quietly curious about the teenager sleeping in the bed across from mine, curious how someone could possibly own so much clothes. Curious how someone could possess so much energy. She had been friendly from the start—she had smiled at me and told me she'd dreamed of me the night before. She said we were going to be good friends. I thought she was probably crazier than me…and then I got to know her.

I don't doubt for a second that Alice was the reason I got out as quickly as I had. When she left, I knew I couldn't stay in there without her. I had grown accustomed to her chattering, to the stories about her family, her brilliant "escape" ideas…everything about her. And so when we said our tearful goodbyes, I promised both Alice and myself that I would get myself out soon. And I did. I convinced the doctors that I was better—and though I still felt torn and broken, I truly had let the idea of Edward being alive go. They'd all been right, I just hadn't been able to let go of Edward Masen.

I rinsed out our glasses and placed them in the dishwasher, and then headed out to my sliding door, letting myself onto the deck. I breathed in the fresh air deeply, leaning against the rail and taking in the clear sky above.

I smiled up at the perfect view of Orion, allowing myself to recall the night Edward had taught me about the winter constellations as we lay back on the soft green spring grass of our meadow. I remembered how engrossed Edward was in his task as astronomy teacher, attempting to correctly recall each star name and constellation, his brow scrunched up in concentration. I hadn't been able to focus on much as I took in every detail of his handsome face, his strong jaw-line, his bronze colored hair. Memorizing it as though it was his hair that was the constellation. But I would never forget Orion. After Edward had given up on remembering the stars that made up the constellation, he had finally deemed one of the stars Bella. His star.

"No matter where we are, we'll always have Bella," he had joked, tracing my cheek bone lightly with a finger as we both stared up at the bright star in the center of Orion. Bella.

"Move over, North star…just follow the Bella-star and you'll be home," I joked back, gazing at my beautiful star. I hadn't felt his eyes on me at first, but when I turned my head to see why he was so quiet, he was staring at me with an un-disguised sadness that he would never explain and I would never understand.

I pulled my eyes from the sky and rubbed my arms lightly. The beautiful day was cooling off. I turned back to the sliding door, opened it, and then turned back out towards the night.

Somewhere below me, a dog howled sadly. A chill ran down my spine.

I understood only too well.

* * *

**A/N: I know, poor Bella. Just keep my prologue in mind. Bella will see her Edward again, in the not-so-distant future:) As always, I'd love to hear your theories and opinions about the chapters (or story as a ****whole!)**

**So tell me this: Do you think Alice's "power" will come into play with regards to Edward and Bella?**

**You guys are awesome; I love each and every review, keep 'em coming!**


	6. Chapter 5 Going, Gone

**Chapter Five Going, Gone**

* * *

**Edward, 2009. Monday--six days before.**

The month passed me by in one long, slow blink. My eyes began closing as my job consumed my life and opened again as I walked through the gate of Jasper's front yard four weeks later--my mind struggling to recall where the time had gone.

Gleason. I had been tracking his daily habits, his schedule. I had to know his routine, his daily interactions, who came by his apartment and when. I had to know it all. Protocol, of course.

James Gleason was an early morning runner and a workaholic. It gave me plenty of time to observe the comings and goings of his apartment building while he was away…and even more time to let myself in and strategize. Because it didn't really matter what James Gleason did when he was _not_ at home. All that would come to matter was what he did when he was home. And who else to expect.

The biggest hurdle would be his "business" meetings. They seemed random, they held no pattern that I could pick up on and I figured that was probably the point. Men in suits would show up at Gleason's place from anywhere between 6pm and 6am. That would certainly make planning his death a lot more complicated. It would also add a challenge--and I always enjoyed a good challenge.

I slugged back a deep swallow of black coffee, wrapping my left hand securely around the edge of the Styrofoam cup as I rapped my right knuckles briskly against Jasper's wooden front door. I could barely recall stopping to purchase this particular cup, but I must have. I rubbed my tired eyes and took another quick gulp of caffeine. I couldn't risk being tired, not today. Not this week.

This week would be the week.

Jonze always encouraged a two month "stalk" period. This is when we would gather every shred of information on our target. Every tiny detail of their life, down to the last nitty gritty, the last second. If he were to ask me where Gleason would be at 4:42 on a Tuesday afternoon, by the end of two months, I was expected to know without hesitation. Lucky for Jonze, I could always do it faster. I had been following Gleason for four weeks…week five was ahead of me and by the end of it, I would be ready. Sunday night James Gleason would breathe his last breath, hopefully dying with a heavy heart full of regret.

I smirked slightly as I knocked again, more loudly this time, on Jasper's front door.

I was sure Gleason could not possibly know regret, much like the fuckers who had killed my parents. They did what they did, they were who they were because they could not feel regret. They could not feel much of anything.

And how much can you feel, Edward Masen?

I pushed that thought quickly from my head as a shiver ran through me, the echo hitting me so quietly that I did not even flinch this time.

Jasper opened the door and my eyes took in his face quickly. His smile was tight, but genuine. I knew he wanted to show me something. Something that was supposed to kill all desire to continue watching Bella.

I wasn't sure that was possible.

"Hey, E. Come in, man," drawled Jasper lightly, stepping aside, pulling the door open wide. I nodded and ducked my head down, stepping awkwardly into the house. In all the years I had known Jasper, I had never once been to his home. He had invited me plenty of times, but it had never felt…right. I always felt like I was invading some untainted part of his life. I'd pretty much somehow inserted myself in his professional life…I had always tried to stay out of his personal life, despite the fact that he was, undoubtedly, the one who knew me best.

It wasn't a large house; I had gathered that from one look at the outside. But it had this feeling to it. Like it was a place that could easily be called home. As Jasper ushered me into a comfortable living room, I took in what I could. Art hung tastefully on the wall, a definite southern theme adorning the hallway and living room.

"Take a seat, E. Beer?"

"Yeah, whatever you got," I replied, my eyes fixed on the entertainment system. It was impressive. Next to it sat a collection of old records and next to that, an old acoustic guitar.

"You play?" I called towards the door Jasper had disappeared through. He poked his head out, popping the cap off a Dos Equis bottle.

"I do. Been playing since I was a kid," he replied, disappearing again. I nodded, thinking of the baby grand sitting in my loft.

We had even more in common than I'd realized.

Jasper came back and handed me a beer, then sat back in an old beat-up looking recliner across from me.

"Hard to believe that in all the years we've known each other, you've never been here," commented Jasper, taking a swig from his beer.

"I was thinking the same thing," I replied, tilting my beer towards him.

"Maybe things can be different," said Jasper, his eyes trained carefully on my face, tilting his bottle back at me, "Cheers."

"It's not that I never--" I started to explain, but I knew I never could explain it properly.

"I know, and I'm not offended, E. Never have been able to be offended with you. I think I get you too well. I think I was that guy, once. Things just worked out differently for me."

"Yeah," I laughed dryly, awkwardly. Jasper gave me another look, loaded with unspoken words.

"Have you and Alice--?" I was curious. I'd been curious all month and I had to know, especially if I wasn't going to be seeing Jasper for awhile.

Jasper shook his head quickly. "She called a few times, just after we met, left messages. But I was waiting until this was finished. I didn't want to be watching Bella well talking to Alice. Seemed wrong. I'm going to call her tonight."

I nodded, silent. Jasper eyed me warily and leaned forward in the recliner.

"Not much to report on Bella this last month, E. Same old shit. School. The newspaper. She went out to visit Charlie a couple weekends ago. Been hanging out with Alice a lot. She's been keeping herself busy."

I nodded, my heart speeding up despite the lack of any news.

Just her name could do that to me. Just her name.

"I told you I had something I wanted to show you." I nodded as Jasper stood. "Follow me," he said. I followed him through a door opposite the kitchen and found myself in a huge, spacious study. I glanced at Jasper curiously and he tilted his head towards the desk.

"Take a look," spoke his quiet voice, his eyes dark.

I approached the desk slowly, my heartbeat picking up again.

Every square inch was covered in glossy black and white photographs.

And in every photograph was Bella. As my eyes roved the pictures, I noticed a common theme. In every single shot, Bella was alone. Not only alone, but she looked incredibly sad. I chose a picture and picked it up delicately between two fingers, not wanting to mark the gloss.

Bella, her head down low. Her mouth was turned down in a frown, her hair blowing out behind her.

"On her way home from Jacob Black's place, three months ago," spoke Jasper from the door. I glanced up at him and then placed the picture back in its rightful spot. Another one caught my attention.

A baseball cap on her head, pulled low. Writing in a journal, her back against a tree. I squinted. Yes, tears stained her cheeks.

"Two months ago, on a lunch break at school," Jasper volunteered again.

I bit the inside of my cheek and placed the picture back on the desk, turning my attention to another. Bella, a sliding door behind her, her head turned up to the sky. Looking lost and alone. Vulnerable.

"At her place, on her porch. Couple weeks ago."

"This is what you wanted to show me?" I demanded, tearing my attention from yet another picture of Bella.

Jasper nodded, his hands in his pockets.

"I thought she'd move on, E. I really did. But I've been watching Bella Swan for two years now and she is in the exact same place she was five years ago when I saw her in the hospital. She has merely learned to mask it better. Thing is, when she doesn't think anyone is watching, she shows me exactly how she feels."

"Jaspe-"

"I'm not finished, E," interrupted Jasper, his eyes hard.

"If you don't leave the girl alone and she will continue to feel like this," he strode over and grabbed the nearest picture—Bella curled into a tiny ball, her head in her hands on her couch, obviously shot with a telephoto lens from the street below her apartment—and shoved it towards me, "Forever."

I blinked back unshed tears, straining to focus back on Jasper as I found my voice.

"She doesn't know. She doesn't know I'm alive! I don't think any of this is related to me…at least, not most of it. How would the Bella you've caught in these photos change if I stopped watching her?" I retorted, my voice rising in a challenge.

"I think she can feel you, E. I know she thinks you're "dead". But I think she feels your presence, your memory. She probably has no fucking idea why or how she still feels that way, but we know. It's because you're right under her nose, alive, watching her. It's not fair to Bella. If you stop, if you let this go, I'm convinced Bella will be able to move on. She will be able to have a normal life. She'll be able to let go of you and take off that necklace. If you don't…one of these days, E, your worlds are going to collide and the damage will be catastrophic."

I glanced down at a nearby picture, a picture of Bella playing with 'that necklace'. She still wore it, five years later.

I knew Jasper was right. Hell, I'd known for a long time I was wrong to be doing what I was doing...and yet it was all these pictures that really were able to show me what was happening to her. I had already lost Bella and now she was losing herself. I had to fix this the only way I knew how to.

I had to stop.

****

It would be the last time, I promised myself hours later, as I stood staring up at her balcony from the whispering shadows of the street.

A light was on and there was movement from the other side of the glass, but I could not see her and I almost felt relieved. It would make it slightly less painful to walk away.

This was it. I had to make a choice and that choice was Bella. She could still have a life—she could be happy. I just couldn't be part of it. I couldn't give her happiness, not from where I was. Not from what I'd done and who I'd become. I had given up on that idea a long time ago. I had deluded myself into thinking I was not affecting her life by watching. That I wasn't being selfish, that I was doing it for her own safety.

I was very good at pretending. Unfortunately, no one believed me but myself. It was time to let her go like I should have done all those years ago.

I shook my head. I kept shaking it, because I felt it coming. Bella's tears, my funeral and the beginning of a long forever.

--

_(2004, Edward)_

_Even in black she was the most beautiful person standing among so many in front of my grave. Though I had very explicitly been warned not to go near my own funeral, I found a loophole. No one had said anything about the burial—so I took it as fair game. _

_As it seems to do during depressingly sad times, the rain was coming down in prickles of cold droplets, and for once, I was happy about Forks' abysmal weather. My long dark trench coat, black umbrella and black shades both disguised and shielded me better than I could have imagined. I was nearly out of sight anyways, standing at a distant grave, pretending to grieve for a certain Mary Gilmore—though it didn't take much acting on my part._

_She had been late. At first, I didn't think she was going to show up and my heart wrenched painfully at the very thought. I hadn't seen her since the day of the accident and even then, I could not remember much about that day._

_The burial had already started when she approached the grave alone, head low. She had taken my breath away and I had to turn quickly away. Her skin, so pale against the material of the long black trench coat, scared me. Never had she looked so frightened, so alone or so scared._

_I had wondered fleetingly if maybe this had been a terrible idea, but as I turned back to look at Bella, I knew I could not leave. I couldn't leave her by herself. _

_How hypocritical of me._

_Her head remained low throughout the priests reading. I watched as her head lifted momentarily when my "godfather" said some words, but as he went on, she lowered her head again and fixed her eyes on the closed casket only feet away. _

_She did not cry while everyone was gathered. She did nott cry as the casket was lowered slowly into the sodden ground. She did not cry as friends from school and "family" hugged her and spoke words to her. No, her tears were saved for the moment people dispersed, running for cars and climbing into limos as the rain pelted more forcefully. Alone, she sank to the muddy ground and broke down, the rain splashing relentlessly around her._

_I did that to her. I'd broken her._

_How I could I leave her like this? Impulsively, I had taken a step forward, a step towards her—towards life and happiness—towards love. Her head had suddenly snapped up, her eyes scanning the cemetery in front of her. My breath had stopped for an instant, as I waited for her to turn her head just one more fraction of one more inch. I waited for her to see me. In that moment, there was nothing more I wanted than for her to see me. I willed her to look a little further, to feel my presence._

_But just as I had started to take another step towards her, her shoulders slumped back and her head fell to her hands. I stepped back to the safety of Mary Gilmore and found my breath, shaky and ragged._

_I wasn't able to let her go, not yet. I knew I'd have to say a real goodbye. I sank back into the shadows to wait for night fall, hoping she hadn't randomly decided to lock her bedroom window._

---

A sharp pain pulled me from the memory. I glanced down to realize I was clutching something tightly in a closed fist. I opened it quickly to reveal a sharp flat rock digging into my palm, tiny droplets of blood pooling on my fair skin. I couldn't recall picking it up but there it lay, reminding me of an Indian arrowhead I had once found with my dad on a hiking trip as a kid. The main difference was this rock had drawn my blood. I dropped the rock quickly and rubbed the few drops of blood on my dark jeans, kicking the rock towards the street gutter.

This was not acceptable. I had to wake up-- I had to pay attention.

"Hey! Who's there?" called a deep voice. I turned to see a burly man and his German Sheppard walking briskly towards me. I knew how I must look to him and I quickly stepped into deeper shadows. With one last look at Bella's dark balcony, I disappeared into a maze of alleys.

Goodbye, Isabella Swan.

****

**Bella Swan, 2009. Thursday--three days before.**

"Bella, check this out!" called Alice pushing through my unlocked apartment door and nearly throwing herself at me, hand outstretched.

"Jake, I gotta go, Alice is here," I muttered into the phone.

"Bells? We'll talk later?" his voice was uncertain and uncharacteristically soft.

"Yeah, yeah of course," I responded, my voice quiet, as I shot Alice a look.

Alice stopped mid lunge, almost tripping, her bright eyes narrowing suspiciously. I clicked off my cell phone and leaned back into the couch, raising an eyebrow at Alice.

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Why were you talking to Jacob Black?" she demanded. "I thought we agreed talking to him was a bad idea," Alice glared at me, her excitement completely dissipating.

"No, _you_ told me talking to him was a bad idea. Never once did I actually agree, "I reminded her. "He just called to say hi. We hadn't talked for awhile," I responded casually, brushing off her question the best I could.

"Isabella Swan. The real reason?" Alice's small hands found her hips as her frown deepened. She hated my vagueness as much as I hated her glares, so I took a breath.

"He called to say he misses me," I spoke slowly, cringing slightly, waiting for Alice to flip out.

"What? Why? What about what's-her-name?" Alice sank down into the couch beside me, her eyes fiery.

"He broke up with Leah, apparently. I think he was just feeling bad and wanted someone to talk to."

"Bella."

"Alice?" I answered.

"Don't let him back in," she warned.

"He was never in, Alice. That was the whole problem, remember?"

"Well, right. But…I just don't trust him, B. I know you cared for him a lot and when he broke up with you I know it hurt, despite the fact you knew it was never going to work out. I just—I kinda hate him for hurting you, okay?"

I had to smile at that. Alice was, hands down, the ultimate greatest friend.

"I love that you've got my back, Al, but we were just talking. Catching up, it'd been awhile." I hated keeping things from her, but I knew she would not want to hear about how much I'd missed Jacob Black. He had been the closest person to making it into my heart since Edward died and I missed him more than I had ever thought possible.

"So what did you come in here all excited about anyways? You have another hot date with Jasper?" I quickly changed the subject, hoping she would stop with the questions. Jasper was her favorite subject lately—after a few weeks of not hearing from him at all, he had suddenly called her back early on in the week. Alice had been on cloud nine ever since. They had had their first date on Tuesday and their second on Wednesday. Alice was completely taken with him--and it sounded like he felt the same.

"Oh…well, yes, but not 'till this weekend. He's really busy with work and I've got all this school stuff to deal with. But that's not what I was excited about--talk of evil Jacob distracted me, but check this out! I found it outside of your apartment on the street!" Alice bounced back onto her feet, eyes brightening up again. She held out her hand and I glanced down, an amused smile on my lips.

I stared at the oddly shaped rock for a moment, my smile instantly disappearing.

"It's an arrowhead," explained Alice quickly, dropping it into my hand. "The natives use to use them back in the day to kill animals for their meat. They're pretty rare these days—super hard to find!"

I examined the rock on my palm, taking care not to touch the pointy end.

"Alice," I said wearily, dropping it on the wood of the coffee table in front of me. "Alice, there's blood on it." I could literally feel my own blood vacating my face as tore my gaze from the arrowhead to Alice's face. She reached down to touch the rock curiously.

"Wow. That's kinda cool," she spoke, her eyes trained on the small red stain near the tip of the rock.

"Alice, that's disgusting. Can you please get it out of here?" I demanded.

"Chill out, Bella. This thing is a collector's item. I'll take it with me when I leave. Speaking of, can I stay over tonight? It's Emmett and Rosalie's anniversary and Emm is making Rose dinner. I'm already traumatized enough as it is, I seriously do not want to see them feeding each other bites of steak over candlelight. Ugh."

I glanced down at the arrowhead and nodded, still feeling a bit off-kilter.

"'Course, Al. We don't need your therapy bill to be bigger than it probably already will be, thanks to your brother," I grinned again, throwing a book over the arrowhead as Alice flicked on the television.

"Movie?"

"Only if you promise me you'll make me get to work on this article for Dr. G as soon as it's over," I replied, yawning widely and leaning into Alice's shoulder.

"We both know you're going to pass out after the previews!" answered Alice, getting up to pop in _Heathers_, one of our favorite dark comedies from the '80's.

"It's hot Christian Slater!" I argued. "I'll make it at least until he makes his grand appearance."

"Christian Slater was never hot," argued Alice. We had this disagreement every single time and I was so sleepy, I let it go, forgetting to bash her love of young 80's John Cusack.

I couldn't remember when I stumbled there, but I woke up sometime later in my bed, fully clothed. So much for finishing my article, I thought as I turned over, glancing at the clock next to my bed.

3:34am.

I sighed and turned back over, my eyes finding the door to the hallway.

I could hear Alice on the couch in the living room, making random noises. She was having a dream--I knew from years of sleepovers that Alice was not a quiet sleeper. I always wondered if it had to do with the weird dreams she was always having. As I sat up, the noises suddenly stopped.

And then I heard her footsteps, her breathing. She was breathing hard, heading towards my room.

"Al? You okay?" I asked, swinging my feet around to the side of the bed, reaching for the lamp.

"Bella," she appeared in the doorway before I could light up the room. I paused, squinting at her outline. Her voice sounded off. Far-away.

"Edward," she said, her eyes glazed over. I froze at the name she uttered.

"Al? Were you dreaming?" I stood up, my body shaking. I took a step towards her pale figure. My eyes went from her face to her hand. She was clutching something in her small fist.

"Al? You're freaking me out. Say something." I watched as she slowly opened her fist. The arrowhead fell to my carpet. I shook my head and looked back up at Alice, worried. I'd been around when she came out of a weird dream before, but it had never been like this. She was always still Alice. This time, she was zombie-Alice.

"Alice, I'm going to call Emmett." I didn't know what else to do.

"Bella. Edward hurts. He's hurt."

"Alice, you had a bad dream. You're okay. Let me grab my phone and--" my cell phone now in hand, Alice suddenly jumped at me, wrenching the phone from my grasp and dropping it on the carpet. I couldn't help but find the arrowhead again, my eyes accusing. I wanted to blame the creepy inanimate object fir Alice's behavior.

Alice took hold of my face gently. I met her gaze, now slightly annoyed at her behavior. But when I saw her eyes I stopped. Filled with anticipation and dread, zombie-Alice was gone.

"Bella. Edward is alive."

* * *

**A/N: Phew. Try not to hate me too much for that slight cliffhanger. I can't help it, really, I love 'em (or maybe I just love torturing my readers?) The good news? The next chapter won't take nearly as long to post. Infact, I can almost promise it this week. I say almost cause I need a loophole, just in case :) Speaking of loopholes, did anyone catch the season finale of Lost? Wow. I adore that show. Annnnyways...**

**By the way, have I mentioned lately how amazing you guys are? I realize I'm not so great at getting back to your comments here on ff (I'm so much better on !), though if there is a direct question, I will always answer you! Of course, I read every single review and love every word you guys have to say, so please! keep 'em coming!**

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter! We have almost caught up to the prologue and the "reunion" of B and E. Can't wait! Things are going to get intense:D**


	7. Chapter 6 Visiting Hours

**Chapter Seven Visiting Hours**

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**Bella Swan, remembering 2004.**

Sleeping with my window unlocked was nothing new-- I'd been doing it since I was a kid. My reasoning? Fresh air at a moment's notice. Simple, but so important to me.

Renee hadn't cared about my "bad habit" the way Charlie had. Of course, she had always seen the best in people; no one would ever take advantage of anyone else, not on purpose. In her mind, I was perfectly safe. That mentality is probably why she became a teacher. Charlie, on the completely opposite hand, hated the fact that I could never remember (or chose not to remember) to click the tiny lock on my window. He didn't care that I was on the second floor of the house in Forks--he was still convinced he would one day he would be woken from a deep sleep to hear me screaming bloody murder, and would have to consequentially axe down my door to save me from a wild serial killer. That mentality is probably why Charlie became a cop. And probably were I got my overactive imagination from.

But, it was the unlocked window that brought him to me. Even in my over-tired, distraught mood, I had imagined him coming to me through the window.

I hadn't been sleeping for the past week, not since the accident. Always, as I started to fall asleep, my body would jerk me back awake in a panic, a cold-sweat clinging to my body. The pain was awful, the crying never stopped and the continuing realization of the sheer loss was incredibly devastating. But the sleeplessness-- its effects--literally drove me over the edge and landed me in the hospital.

But at the time, it had all seemed so real. I had been motionless on my back as the window slowly slid open. Frozen, my heart beat quickly at the prospect of what I had been daydreaming about for the past week.

That he would come back for me.

As I watched him jump from the window sill to my carpet, I slowly sat up, mesmerized by what could not possibly be happening in front of my eyes.

"Bella," his voice so ragged and full of emotion, it stumbled over my name, cracking at the end. It was loaded with pain and love and everything in between.

"Edward? Did I fall asleep? Is this a dream?" It had been the only explanation that made sense and I was okay with it because he was there and nothing else really mattered. It was so real. The pause dragged on as his face went through various emotions. He stepped towards me and that was enough to finally unfreeze my limbs. I jumped from my bed, took the three steps it took to reach him, and threw my arms around the figment of my imagination. The very solid, very warm, figment of my imagination--with soft lips and sweet breath. Our lips met once, twice…I wasn't sure I would be able to stop, figment or not.

"Bella. God, oh Bella," at his words, I pulled back from his embrace, finding his eyes quickly with my own.

"Edward, it's okay. I'm here…we're together. I'm going to try and stay asleep for as long as I can. I miss you so much," I murmured, reaching out and touching his cheek gently.

At that, he scooped me up and carried me back to my bed, where he laid me down gently.

"I had to say goodbye," he whispered, brushing back a lock of my hair, his lips brushing my forehead as his arms wrapped themselves around me once more

"I miss you so much already," I replied, my heart aching. "It's not fair, Edward. Why you?"

His face changed and I wondered vaguely why I had created such an emotion-laden figment.

"I miss you too, Bella. I had to see you, one last—"he stopped suddenly, tilting his head, "I miss you, Bella. I didn't want to leave you like that. Please try not to hurt anymore. I'll be taking care of you, even though I'm not here anymore."

I brought his hand to my face, rubbing it gently against my cheek.

"Is this how I was supposed to find you? Through my dreams?" I asked, recalling his parting words. His puzzled look told me he didn't know what I was talking about. Shouldn't my figment know everything I know?

"Edward?" I sat up slowly, a frown on my face.

"I need to go, Bella. It's time," his lips found mine again. This time the kiss was filled with something else. A finality of sorts, but also of longing and desperation.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bella," he stood then and turned to the window, his voice choked with more than my brain wanted to register.

"Edward?" I repeated, rising from the bed. He was already halfway through the window when I reached him and took his shoulder.

"Why are you using the window? This is a dream, just disappear." I couldn't believe those words had escaped my lips—disappearing was the last thing I wanted Edward to do and yet it was a challenge. Proof.

"I love you," he replied, turning to me. Tears fell down his face freely, carelessly. He grabbed my hand from his shoulder and pulled me to him, our bodies pressed close, I could feel him shaking, his body wracked with silent sobs. When he pulled back, his eyes were slightly damp, as they took in my face with a darkly tender look. I reached to brush away his tears but he shook his head and kissed me. The passion knocked me breathless.

"I can't," he choked as our lips parted. "I can't," but he turned from me and found the massive tree in front of my window with his feet.

"Don't go," I whispered, my heart wrenching painfully.

"Listen to Charlie, Bella. Lock your window. I'm not the most dangerous thing out there," his voice was flat. He didn't look back.

He was gone.

The next thing I knew I was in bed, opening my eyes. Two days later, I was locked away in a mental hospital, convinced Edward had really come to me. That Edward was still alive.

--

**Bella, 2009--Friday. Two days before.**

"I can't believe I said that," laughed Alice lightly, accepting the double chocolate chip frappaccino from the Starbucks employee. I sipped my chai tea latte quietly. I was still incredibly shaken up from Alice's words only hours ago. We took a seat by the window and Alice's smile disappeared from her face.

"Bella, I'm sorry that I freaked you out. I don't know what got into me," spoke Alice, her voice quiet.

"Tell me about the dream," I answered. After Alice had uttered those three chilling words, "Edward is alive", she snapped out of whatever trance she had been in and started at me blankly. She said she couldn't remember how she'd gotten to my room. She didn't remember picking up the arrowhead, she didn't remember walking to my room. And she really couldn't remember ever having spoken to me.

But she remembered her dream.

Having put it off until we'd both been adequately caffeinated, Alice finally sighed in defeat and looked at me apologetically.

"You know the majority of my dreams don't mean a thing, right? And in this case, we both know there can't be anything to it." I nodded, but waited for her to continue.

"It was dark, but it was day time; the sky was completely overcast and the rain—it was coming down. I was in this building, in a hallway. I'm not sure where or why but I felt scared. At first, I didn't know who I was looking at as he slowly walked towards me. He was tall, his messy bronze hair longish. He looked at me sadly, almost pleadingly. There was something wrong with him, but I couldn't tell what—not right away. He had his hands crossed over his chest and he was obviously in pain. He began to approach me and I knew instinctively that it wasn't him I was afraid of. He uncrossed one arm from his chest and stretched out his hand like he wanted to give me something. But before I could take it from him, there was a loud shot—sounded like a gunshot—and then a scream from somewhere—from another room, near-by.

"His eyes completely changed and that's when I realized who he was. I knew him from you pictures, Bella. His eyes went from painfully sad and flat to completely alert and alive. Our eyes met, he said "Bella" and he dropped something. It was that stupid arrowhead I found yesterday. As he turned to follow the scream, I saw that his arms had been covering a wound in his chest; a gunshot wound.

"Next thing I knew, B, I was standing in front of you and you were crying. And I had no idea why."

I remained quiet a second as I tried to make sense of her dream.

"It was so…you were so serious, Alice. You said it with such conviction. And your dreams are so—it just really freaked me out," I replied, taking another sip of my chai.

"Bella," started Alice slowly, "I want to be honest with you. This dream felt…it felt real. It felt like—like one of…my scary ones. But obviously it can't be. For my entire life, I'd been so convinced that these dreams were spelling out reality for me, in some way or another…but I think this last one, this one about Edward, is spelling out something more metaphoric instead of real."

"Metaphoric how?" I asked, ignoring the table of three guys who were very obviously checking Alice and I out.

"Well," Alice eyed me uncertainly. "You still wear the ring. I think maybe I know you better than you think I do, B. You pretend to be happy and fine, but you're not always that way, are you?"

I started down at my drink, feeling my cheeks redden slightly.

"Are you completely miserable, Bella?" she whispered, her eyes anxious, her head bending forward towards me.

I looked up at her through a teary smile.

"Not completely, Alice. I've got you, haven't i?"

Alice smiled back, but it didn't touch her eyes.

"Always. How long…how long do you think…?" she couldn't finish her question, but I understood.

"I don't know, Alice. But it's been five years and sometimes…" I hesitated. I had never divulged much information on my feelings about Edward to Alice, and she had always been okay with that because she understood my pain. "Sometimes I feel exactly the same way as I did when he died. I don't know what it will take. I just know how much it hurts. And how much I want to continue to feel the hurt because it keeps him alive, Alice." I hesitated again, glancing around the café to buy a second more of time.

"I'm afraid of forgetting him."

"Oh, Bella. Bella. You could never forget him. You've got so many memories; he was your first true love. He changed your life in so many ways. But you need to remember him without sacrificing yourself. You're alive, B, and he would never want you to give up a single moment of living. I think that's what my dream was trying to show. Edward would have given up anything for you, even his own life, to make sure you're happy and safe and secure."

I nodded, tears trickling down my face. Alice was making good sense. I knew she was right.

"I love you, B. I know I like to pretend that I do, but I don't always know what you're thinking and I don't always know how to deal with your sadness. You have to tell me what you need, okay?"

I smiled as Alice grabbed a napkin and wiped my falling tears.

"Honestly? Nothing would make me happier right now than helping you pick out your outfit for your date with Jasper tonight."

Alice's mouth dropped open.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. And t_hen _I've gotta head into the office and let this article squared away! Dr. G is going to kill me if I keep putting this off," I joked as we stood up. Alice draped an arm around my shoulders and we took off

"I think I dreamed of this day once," laughed Alice as we tossed out cups into the trash can and exited Starbucks.

I felt bad changing the subject, I really did. But I had a lot to think about and shopping was the only way to distract Alice while I kept pretending.

Only for a little longer, I thought, pulling gently on the ring around my neck. Just a little longer.

--

"Where is Dr.G?" I asked, striding purposefully into the office that served as home base for the school university newspaper.

"You can stop looking so serious and important, Swan. He left about an hour ago. Said if you ,and I quote, "ever show up with only the most important front page story to date", to call him or he's going to fire you as editor. He sounded kind of anxious," answered Eric Yorkie, his grin teasing. He had his feet propped up on his desk as he skimmed today's edition of the Seattle Times.

I had to roll my eyes at that. Dr. G was one of the most laid back professors at this university. He had only been teaching at the university for a year, but he was well liked by students and faculty. He was always full of jokes and teased us all relentlessly. He was by far, my favorite professor.

"Well, the story is pretty much finished. Honestly, I don't know why he pushed this one so hard as a feature. There was barely anything to it. And definitely no scandal. He may change his mind about putting it on next week's cover."

"Maybe you're just a shitty reporter," spoke a voice from behind Eric. I raised my eyebrow towards Lauren Mallory as I stepped over to my desk and opened a drawer.

Lauren and I had had the unfortunate experience to go through high school together and although she had been rather close with one of my good friends Jessica, she had pretty much hated me from day one. I never really knew why, though Jessica had always blamed it on jealousy.

"You won Edward Masen, Bella. The day you two showed up to school, very obviously a couple, Lauren's previous jealousy banged shut your coffin. You know how hard she had tried to seduce him." Jessica had explained to me years ago.

"I don't think Swan would be our editor if she was a shitty reporter, Mallory," replied Eric with an eye-roll, going back to his paper.

I just ignored the girl and continued to search my desk, looking for Dr. G's home number.

When I finally found it written on a tiny crumpled piece of paper, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the digits quickly.

It went straight to an answering machine.

"Hey Dr. G, it's your greatest and most competent reporter calling, aside from Yorkie, obviously. Just wanted to let you know that the story is almost finished, I'm adding the finishing touches at the office. If you want to meet me back here sometime this weekend, you can look over it and marvel at the lack of anything scandalous. Call me back and let me know."

I hung up and mentally stuck my tongue out at Lauren. Immature, I knew that, but she always brought out the worst in me.

**

**Edward, 2009--Friday night. Two days before.**

I entered his apartment from the window above the fire escape just as his answering machine clicked off. It was late Friday night, Gleason was out with some colleagues, and this would be the last time I would step foot in his residence until Sunday, the date of his ultimate demise.

Everything was as it should be, nothing out of place. As I pressed the play button on his answering machine and listened to his messages, I walked through the apartment, my eyes closed. I had long ago memorized the layout, but now it was time to test myself. Without hesitation, I ran myself through rooms, imagining everything accurately in my mind. No question, I was ready.

"…adding the finishing touches…lack of anything…call me back…" The last message was full of static, but I dismissed it quickly. Most messages that came through Gleason's machine were from students of his at school. They were of little consequence.

Before I left, I planted a small couple bugs that were designed to destruct without leaving a trace of evidence at a pre-programmed date and time. This was especially for Jimmy, the technology lead of the operation. He generally listened in to make sure everything was going as planned. If there were any problems, he was the one to report it to Jonze, who would then make the decision to send backup. Or not, as it were in some high-risk cases.

Now all I had to do was wait. The clock was ticking and I was ready. I felt more relaxed than I should have felt as I stopped at a diner to grab some food. I wasn't sure when the last time it was I actually ate a full meal and the steak and potatoes, despite its lack of quality, felt absurdly great as it settled into my stomach.

I checked my watch; 12:55am, and wandered back to my loft. I had easily avoided much thinking time, but as I unlocked my door and threw my bag on the couch, my brain suddenly woke up and Bella flooded my thoughts. Instead of letting them eat me alive, I sat at my piano bench and allowed my fingers to travel the length of the ivory keys. I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me, my emotions so close to the surface, so raw, demanding attention.

Before I knew it, I had composed a new song. But this one was not pretty; it was not one my mother would have smiled and clapped her hands together for. No, this one was raw and gritty. Full of pain. Broken.

"Détruit," I uttered to myself as my long fingers continued the song, adding chords and a dark, haunting melody.

The word popped into my head and stopped me mid-song.

Bella had taken one semester of high school French before she gave up on learning another language. She had learned a few simple words and small phrases here and there, but her favorite word was "détruit". When she told me that it meant broken, I asked what it was she liked about such a sad word.

"Listen to the word, Edward. There is so much more to it than just what it means. It's like music, every letter just sings to me. It's so beautiful and haunting and sad. But there's hope, too. Just because something's broken, doesn't mean it can't be fixed. Broken things can always be fixed."

I smiled softly as her words echoed in my head. Always the optimistic one. I wondered if the Bella of today would agree with high school Bella. I doubted it.

As I carefully wrote the notes on some sheet music, I added the title without hesitation.

Détruit.

**

Sunday night came at me fast and as ten o'clock approached, I packed up all the supplies that I would need, double checking to make sure I had everything, and then slid the gun into the waistband of my dark jeans. The bugs had reported nothing unusual was going on. Gleason was alone in the apartment and instead of waiting until later; I decided to get it done now.

That was my first mistake of the night but wouldn't be my last.

I drove my car within a few blocks of Gleason's apartment and parked in a dark side street, walking the rest of the way, inconspicuously. It was storming and I was drenched, but it didn't matter. Taking a breath, I pushed open the door to the complex and made my way up the stairs to the third floor, ignoring the elevator, knowing I would have a greater chance at remaining unseen this way. His door, thankfully on the corner closest to me, was the only thing that stood between Gleason and his certain death. I wiped back a lock of dripping hair, knocked on the door quickly, and took the gun from my waistband, holding it low with both hands. I plastered a friendly smile on my face in case he used his peephole.

He didn't.

"Come in, door is open!" called his voice from the other side. Was he expecting someone? I cringed slightly, but clicked open the door with my gloved hand and pushed it with my foot, my eyes quickly taking in the main room in less than a second.

"Come in, come in. Just taking dinner out of the oven. Drink?"

And then there he was an oven mitt on one hand, a wine glass in the other. He barely had time to register that I was not who he'd been expecting before I squeezed the trigger and put a bullet in his chest. The wine glass bounced clumsily as it hit the white carpet, spilling its contents all over. I leaned over quickly to find a pulse with my gloved fingers. Nothing. He was dead.

As long as we spent studying the habits of our targets, as much time as we spent analyzing their every move, the finality of most of my hits astounded me—always over before I knew it.

My head turned as I heard footsteps coming from down the hall. At that moment, I was thankful for two things. That the elevator was all the way at the other end of the hall and that my silencer, annoying and as heavy as it sometimes was, was also part of protocol. I headed for the window above the fire exit and opened it swiftly just as a voice called out.

"Dr. G? What's up with the door…." A strangled gasp followed the unfinished question.

The window was hidden from the view of the front door which allowed me to safely pause at the sound of her voice. It sounded so familiar…so…

I chanced a look back. She was leaned over Gleason, one hand covering up the hole I had just made to his chest, the other digging threw a purse as she chanted "oh god" over and over. I couldn't see her face but it was the glint of silver dangling from around her neck that caught my eye.

A ring. Her ring, my ring. The ring.

_My heart forever, keep it safe._

Oh god, no.

I couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events. This world did not involve Bella, she did not belong in this scene…and yet, there she was, an intruder in the gritty underworld in which I occupied. My heart pounded painfully. I knew I had to move, had to get out there. But how could I when she was so close, when she could be in danger herself?

What happened next was completely done unconsciously. Watching her sob as she pressed her hand into Gleason's chest, I could not stand it. The pain I was seeing was so completely different than the pain I saw in Jaspers pictures. This was so real. Bella, right in front of me. Crying. I swung my legs back through the window, as a crack of lightening caused the electricity to flicker and then shut off. The apartment was suddenly bathed in darkness, lit only by the storm outside.

I walked slowly towards the door that would reveal me to Bella, my mind a haze of nothing but the complete and utter desire to touch her face, to calm her down. To cradle her in my arms and sooth her. All reason was out the window as I put my job, my freedom and my life in jeopardy—but none of that mattered anymore and had I paused to think for even a second, I would have wondered how I had ever let any of it matter.

This was Bella. Bella.

I stopped in the entrance to the main room as she looked up, surprised. As another flash of lightening struck, I saw her forehead was covered in Gleason's blood from where she had just brushed aside a lock of hair with her blood covered hand.

She jumped to her feet at the sight of me, backing up a couple steps towards the door. Blood literally dripped down her face as her eyes took me in. Her face had the same look of disbelief as it did almost five years ago, when I had appeared at her window. When they had forced her to write that off as crazy.

She looked like she'd seen a ghost, and really, she was right. But oh god, _Bella._

She continued to stare at me her mouth open slightly, emotions crossing her face faster than I could identify them.

And finally, I had to. There was no going back. I took a step forward, towards her, stretching out my hand, my shaking hand.

She cringed and backed away into the frame of the door. I dropped my hand quickly. What the hell was I thinking? But it hurt too, so much, to see her looking at me like that—like she didn't know me, didn't trust me.

Like she was afraid of me. Pain stabbed at my heart.

"Bella."

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**A/N: I'm totally grinning right now. Why, you ask? Because I'm leaving it there...right before the shit really hits the fan:) You're welcome ;)**

**You guys continue to amaze me. Thanks for all advice, suggestions and flattery (the cheque is in the mail).**

**The next chapter will go back to see Bella meet Jasper...also, we'll see exactly how and why she ended up at Gleasons aptmt...and then of course we will catch up and pass the prologue into unchartered territory. **

**What do you think will happen next? How will Bella react once the shock wears off? Put your ideas in a review! :D**


	8. Chapter 7 The Great Escape

**A/N:** 5000+ words! Enjoy.

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**Chapter Seven The Great Escape**

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**Bella, 2009—Friday, two days before.**

"Dr.G? Dr. G, I can't hear you, you're all static-y. Call me back," I called loudly into my cell phone before glaring at it and slamming it closed it in frustration. Now completely impatient and late, I punched at the small glowing 4 on the elevator panel, in spite of the fact that it was already moving up towards the apartment Alice and Emmett shared.

"Come on, come on," I muttered as the elevator finally stopped. "My grandmother moves faster than you," I have the door a kick with my sandal-clad foot—a tiny kick that immediately had me gasping and bending down to grab my big toe as it throbbed pain.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." The door opened with a cheerful ding and I glared out into the hallway, planning on putting anyone out there in their place with my death glare, should they laugh at the sight of me crouching in pain. I was lucky; the hallway was empty. I blew on my big toe, not really knowing why, as the door began to close again. Ignoring the pain in my toe, I jumped to make it out the doors in time before they sealed shut again.

I turned around and stuck my tongue out at the reflective doors.

I had worked late on the article for Dr.G and now found myself tired, irritable, and running late to meet Alice at her place. She had called me hours ago to squeal in excitement at the fact that Jasper was going to pick her up at her apartment and meet Emmett. She wanted me to stop by on my way home so I could meet him, too. Of course, how could I say no to that? But I quickly lost track of time as I put the final edits on my story, wanting to enhance the article somehow. It was not one of my finer pieces; it had been tough to find any intrigue in the boring University "underground" world. The story just wasn't there and I would have to tell that to Dr. G…when I could get ahold of him. We'd been playing phone tag all day.

I limped quickly down the hall and knocked lightly on the door. Upon hearing loud conversation and louder music, I opened the door, letting myself in. I could hear chatter from the kitchen and headed that way, turning down the blaring music as I went by the stereo.

"Sorry I'm late!" I called as I reached the entrance of the always surprisingly large kitchen that was so rarely used by either Cullen child. I knew Esme, their mother, always hoped one of them would take an interest in cooking, but it had yet to happen. Instead, their recycling bin and trash cans were always filled to the brim with takeout boxes and doggie bags.

"Hey Bells!" called out Emmett, moving into the doorway to bend down and envelop me in a bone-crushing hug, effectively blocking my view into the kitchen.

"Hey Emm, bones…breaking," I replied with a gasp. He chuckled and loosened his grip slightly, bending down to my ear.

"I like this Whitlock guy. But don't tell Alice," he said softly. I grinned up at Alice's brother and traced my lips with my index finger, and mimed throwing away a key.

"But, you take full responsibilities for your actions when Alice pummels you," I whispered back. Emmett grinned back, messed-up my hair, and then somehow maneuvered around me back into the living room.

"I can take care of the pixie," he said, back in his regular voice. I could now see into the kitchen and Alice perked up at that.

"What? Bella, what did he say?"

"Nothing, Alice, don't worry about it. Where is--" I trailed off as a gorgeous, tall blonde man entered the kitchen from the back hall, his eyes and smile focused only on Alice. Her face lit up at the sight of him and his smile grew more sparkly, if that was even possible.

"Jasper, I want you to meet the surprise I was telling you about! This is my best friend, Bella!" I could tell Alice was trying her best not to bounce up and down as she clutched the granite countertop and grinned over at me. I smiled back and swung my eyes over to Jasper. His eyes—a brilliant, sparkling green—suddenly clouded over as he turned to take me in. His mouth opened slightly and his brow creased as though surprised. He didn't say anything and my smile faltered. There was something about him. Something…familiar.

"Do we—have we meet before?" I asked, brightening up my smile again. Maybe that would explain the weird expression that continued to reside peculiarly on his face.

"Uh..no, I mean, I don't think so, "he responded, his words falling quickly and awkwardly out of his mouth.

"Are you sure? You look really familiar," I said lightly, searching my mind for a connection.

"I get that a lot," he replied, looking uncomfortable. He smiled slightly, but there was effort involved and I was thoroughly confused. What the hell?

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jasper. Alice has been going on and on about you," I replied, attempting to brush away the awkwardness by thrusting Alice into the spotlight.

"Bellllla," groaned Alice. But she didn't mind and we both knew it. Under her façade, I could tell that she, too, was confused by Jasper's reaction to me.

"All good things!"I said with a laugh, "Except that whole hiding in the bushes outside her window thing." My attempt must have gone completely over some line, because at my words, Jaspers sun-kissed skin turned a horrid shade of death. He laughed weakly.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I turned to Alice and attempted to send her a telepathic message.

_I'm sorry I'm such an idiot_. And then, _lock your window_.

"Well, uhm…I have to get home. I have some things. To do. Right now," I stumbled over my words and took one last glance at Jasper. Though still pale, he looked slightly more relaxed.

"It's a little intimidating, meeting Alice's best friend," he said quietly.

"And brother!" called Emmett from the living room, letting out a gigantic burp.

"And on that note…." Alice finally spoke. She looked crestfallen and I couldn't help but feel bad for her. I knew she had wanted the introductions to go perfectly.

"You guys have fun tonight," I said with a smile.

"Bella? Really, it was great meeting you," spoke Jasper, now back to the right shade of alive.

"You too, Jasper. I'm sure I will see you again soon."

I went over, hugged Alice and gave them one last goodbye.

As I bypassed the wicked elevator with a frown on my face and trudged down the stairs, I couldn't help but wonder what the hell was wrong with Jasper. I knew him for somewhere. We'd met before, I knew it. But why couldn't I remember? And why would he lie about it?

I really had no clue.

Back on street level and in my truck, my phone buzzed.

Finally.

"Dr. G! Article, quick! When can I meet you?"

"Sunday night work for you? Say 10ish?"

I paused a second. Ten wasn't exactly early.

"Uh, okay, I can make that work."

"I know it's a little late, but I'll make that up to you by providing you a warm meal."

I smiled at the thought of Dr. G making dinner. I couldn't imagine anything but hot pockets in the microwave.

"You're on. I take my steak medium-rare."

"Ohhhh, she's thinks she's getting five star! I'll email you directions, Swan. See you Sunday at 10."

I clicked off my phone and grinned, almost forgetting the weirdness that was Jasper Whitlock. I could contemplate his erratic behavior later. I had bought another day of article-improving. And I probably could use a new outfit…

--

**Bella, 2009. Now.**

I took a breath, opened my mouth to speak, to say something, _anything _to this…this ghost in front of me. But the words stuck in my throat and my instincts took over, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Everything in me told me to just _run_. So, I turned and sprinted for the elevator, my heart-beat thumping in my ear.

He could not be real. This wasn't possible.

"Bella!" I heard behind me as I frantically punched the 'up' button. He was crazy, clearly. This man, this man who just happened to look identical to my Edward, was clearly insane. He had killed Professor Gleason. And now he was going to kill me.

The elevator arrived at the third flood and dinged open just as the crazy man exited Dr. G's apartment door in pursuit. But now his hands were not empty. There it was—the gun he had just used to kill Dr. G dangled in his left hand, mocking me. Quickly, I punched in the G for ground level repeatedly, willing the doors to close faster, and backed into the furthest corner of the tiny elevator, my heart pounding.

"Bella, wait. Bella! Please," as the doors closed, I saw his eyes. Wild, desperate, out of control. Those were not Edwards's eyes, no; these were the eyes if a killer. What had I been thinking? This was insane--if he caught me…I glanced at the door panel on the elevator and quickly reached to push the first floor button. He was probably taking the stairs two at a time. He would be waiting for me on the ground floor. I had to think.

Think, Bella.

How does he know my name?

_It's all real…_

No. The elevator stopped on the first floor and I dashed out, looking for another way out of the building. There had to be another way out. I ran to the end of the hallway, ignoring the stairwell. I had to push the fact that this crazy man was probably only twenty stairs away from me out of my frantic mind, and think. _Think!_ I considered yelling for help. But I had no idea what had happened, and I was paranoid. I would never know who I could trust. I also didn't want this man to know where I was. And what if he had accomplices lurking, waiting? A bullet would only need a second to kill me and screaming could get me killed faster.

A window. Hands on the glass, I glanced down. Yes, a fire escape. My heart in my throat, I unlatched the lock and pushed at the glass. Stuck, I couldn't open it. I banged harder against the glass. Nothing. I took a breath, attempting to quelch the rising desperation. He would realize any second now, if he hadn't already, that I had gotten off early. Closing my eyes tightly, I stepped back and then propelled myself forward, connecting my right shoulder with the window.

Success! The window squeaked open just enough for me to squeeze my body through. With my feet now securely on the small flat platform of the fire-escape, I turned back to the window, hoping to pull it closed behind me, hoping to hide my escape. I tugged once, twice. Nothing.

Just go! Screamed my internal voice. And so I did. Carefully, I climbed down the escape ladder, not wanting to have an episode of clumsiness at this moment. When my feet hit the ground, I immediately looked back up, using my hand to shield the pouring rain from my eyes. The window was empty. I was in a back alley around the backside of the apartment. My truck was parked out front, across the street. Should I chance it? Or should I just take the alley until I found somewhere safe to call the police? I remained crouched low and sunk deeper into the dark shadows, thrusting my hand into my bag in search of my cell phone.

My eyes on the dark window, I continued to fish around. Where the hell--?

The apartment, I realized. I must have dropped it when he—when he—how did he know my _name_? I stopped. I had to close my mind off to what had happened and instead, focus on what to do…how to get away. I considered my options again. Maybe the rain would be enough of a shield that I would be able to make it to my truck. He couldn't possibly know it was my truck. Plus, he just killed a man; he probably gave up on me and is riding away in his get-away car right now. Carefully, I stayed low, bending my knees in an effort at being stealthy. I never was one for hide-and-go-seek…I always picked the most obvious spots and was quickly tagged. I carefully crept around the building to the side, my eyes sweeping the area. I clutched my keys in my right hand and griped my house key so that it stuck out between my index and middle finger. If he tries anything, I'm going to make him sorry, I vowed. Crazy killer eyes don't look so threatening when they've been gouged out with keys.

I spotted my truck yards away across the street, thankfully, alone. I straightened up, gripped my keys more tightly, and prepared to sprint across the street when a red and blue flashing light stopped me cold.

The police?

Without thinking, I shot out from my place against the brick wall and waved my arms, running to the sidewalk. The driver noticed me and stopped, rolling down his window. I bent forward, taking in a breath quickly to speak--then stopped, my voice caught in my throat.

His face, pock-marked and scared, frightened me. I stepped back involuntarily to a safer distance, my eyes wide.

"M'am? Everything okay?" he asked his voice gruff. I felt myself nod automatically. What was I saying? Nothing was okay.

_His eyes. Those eyes. _

"Upstairs, Dr.G. He's in trouble," I managed to get out, inching back from the car as I noticed this particular car was unmarked. It did not say police on it. It merely had the lights. The red and blue lights.

"We know. We got a call. I'm going in to check it out now. Stay here," he ordered, opening his door and stepping out of the vehicle.

No uniform. But a gun. A really big gun. A man I hadn't noticed stepped out from the passenger's side of the car.

I backed away another step and nodded my head. Something's wrong, something's very wrong.

"We will need to question you," spoke the other man, his eyes gentle, but his voice firm. But they were in a hurry and apparently took my puppet-string nod for a promise. As soon as they pushed into the front door of the complex, I jogged the rest of the way to my truck. I would call the police station as soon as I got home, from behind my securely locked doors.

Now behind the wheel, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding, ripped free from my dripping, bloody raincoat and started my truck, shifting it quickly into gear and taking off. As blocks began to blur by me, so did my façade. Shaking now, I had to force myself to focus on the road in front of me. I was far from familiar territory and I couldn't afford to get lost now.

_I'm here, Bella. It's all real._

No.

I pushed back the tears and made a left.

_It wasn't supposed to happen this way._

No.

I made a right, my stomach clenching painfully.

_I'm here._

No!

I banged both my hands hard against the steering wheel, tears spilling down my face, blinding my eyes from the view of the road in front of me. I almost didn't notice the bright yellow car next to me until it nudged against my truck. Turning my head towards the passenger's window, I spotted a yellow mustang driving parallel to me, its windows tinted and threatening as it once again swerved towards me. I fought to remain in control of the wheel, but it struck me harder and this time, I lost the fight and felt the truck spin towards oncoming traffic. The jolt that suddenly hit me caused me to grip the wheel, turning my knuckles white. I felt the side of my body slam against the driver's side door and then throw me back towards the middle of the car. My body begged to be released from the grips of persistent seatbelt, but the ride wasn't over. From somewhere behind my car, which was now scattered in the middle of the intersection, something else hit. The last thing I'd remember is my face flying towards the windshield. And those eyes. Those eyes…

_Edward!_

And then…darkness.

--

**Edward, 2009. Now.**

No. Not after everything, not now. This could not happen. Fucking yellow mustang. Someone would be paying severely.

And yet, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," was all I could say, chanting to the beat of my shoes on the cement below me as I sprinted from my Volvo to Bella's truck. I yanked open the rusty door of the beat up old truck, my hands finding her before my eyes could, the rain pounding my eyes angrily, accusingly. I felt her chest rising and falling evenly and I let out a shaky breath, taking one hand back to pull the hood of my jacket over my head and wipe the rain from my eyes. Squinting, I found the seatbelt release and pressed hard, soon feeling it grudgingly release its captive into my waiting arms. I leaned her back against the seat and stepped up onto the truck platform to check her face, her body. I needed to know if I could safely move her. And I needed to do it fast, already sirens screamed in the distance. I had to move. Blood covered her face, but I knew it wasn't all hers. Her arms were covered in cuts, some holing pieces of her shattered windshield. I would take care of that later. Other than an obvious concussion and probably more bruises, she appeared movable. I quickly slid her to the edge of the driver's seat and lifted her down into my arms, cradling her carefully against my body, her limbs limp and unresponsive.

"I didn't notice her, she just came out of nowhere…oh God, man, is she okay?" groaned a voice from a few feet away. A man, about sixty, stumbled out from his crumpled Toyota Corrola.

"She's fine. Take this. Call this number. We'll work out insurance details," I handed him a card and kept walking.

"But…she's unconscious! Should you be moving her? Maybe you should wait for the police to get here," I heard suspicion creeping into his voice as he took a step after me.

"I am the police. Just call that number," I answered. I pulled Bella closer to my body as the rain continued to pound all around us. I jogged to the running Volvo. I hadn't even pulled the keys out of the ignition or shut the driver's side door in my haste to reach Bella. Now grateful that the car would at least be warm and dry on the passenger's side, I leaned down slightly and pulled open the door. Shifting her weight slightly, I managed to seat her in the car, quickly fastening the belt around her slim hips. I closed the door tightly and jogged across to the open door, hoped in and slammed it shut behind me. With the sirens making an appearance in my rearview mirror, I quickly checked my side mirrors and pulled out, taking the first right possible. I breathed out another shaky breath and kept driving quickly but carefully. When I finally reached familiar landscape, I allowed myself to slow down and glance at my passenger. Her head tilted forward, I could see she was still completely unconscious.

Oh, you'll know when she wakes up, I warned myself. She will be screaming bloody murder. Literally. I sighed.

The number of times that I had daydreamed about reuniting with Bella and not once had my mind played this particular scenario. It was beyond being an ideal circumstance. And yet, the magnetism I felt between Bella and I, the pull I had vehemently tried to ignore, was undeniable and ever-present when she was unconscious. Five years and it had only grown stronger. I shook my head and pulled my car into an underground parking lot.

I didn't have a plan, I certainly didn't have a guide book, and I had said a giant "fuck you" to protocol the moment I had gone back to investigate the footsteps I heard after killing Gleason, as I'm sure the persistent vibrating of my cell phone was dying to tell me. I knew one thing only and that was that I had to make sure Bella was safe. And she needed to know she wasn't crazy. I had to tell her what I could about me, about what I'd done, and I had to make her believe me.

I could no longer remain a figment of her imagination, a ghost of the past. I could no longer run.

My heart beat quickened at the thought of telling her everything. I wondered if what was happening was similar to the stages of loss. She had certainly suffered from the first stage—denial-- right in front of my eyes, as she had turned and sprinted to the elevator. At the time, I thought I could catch up with her; explain to her somehow that I really was _me_. But I had fucked up royally when I had exited into the hall, gun in hand. The moment she saw the gun she panicked, as though it had confirmed something in her mind. I knew there was no talking to be had. I had taken the stairs down to intercept on the ground floor, but she outsmarted me. I should have known she would. She got off a floor above and used the fire-escape to vacate the building. I had considered hiding myself in the bed of her truck and riding to wherever she decided to go, in hopes of somehow explaining myself to her once there. But I knew that wouldn't work, so I settled on following her. I would watch what she did, what her next step would be. I would have to get a plan together. And so, I had watched, hidden, as she spotted the flashing lights from Jonze's unmarked car. He had sure acted fast. I figured Jimmy must have been listening closely as the events unfolded.

And then, there was that fucking yellow mustang and I knew it meant big trouble. Who? No license plate. I had been blocks behind Bella's cripple truck and not been paying any attention to the mustang until it as too late. Why? Why Bella? There were many questions and Jonze needed to know, he to find the car. One of Gleason's men? I would fucking kill them for what they did.

My phone buzzed again as I turned off the ignition. Again, I ignored it.

I was going to be answering a lot of questions when I finally picked up my phone. They were not going to be happy with me. In fact, I didn't want to imagine exactly what they would say to me, how much trouble I was in. I was breaking all their rules and I knew the consequences would be severe.

Fuck the rules. This is Bella. I had let protocol rule my life, rule my head, for so long that I had almost forgotten what freedom felt like. It would take some getting used to.

I unbelted her quickly, carefully folding her cut-up arms gently across her body before scooping her up and carrying her quickly to the elevator. My loft apartment was on the fifth floor, and as I waited for the doors to swing open, I took in her face, my concern mounting. Was I supposed to wake her up? If she had a concussion, shouldn't I make her stay awake? I didn't know and I nearly didn't care because she was in my arms. In _my _arms. The potential severity of the situation escaped me for a moment as I held her close to me, leaning my face down to take in her scent, brushing back a lock of wet hair in the process. My heart filled with a nearly forgotten sensation of the purest joy I could imagine.

Bella.

My heart ached for her, for her eyes to open, her full sweet lips to curl upwards playfully, for my name to fall from her lips. Instead, her breathing staggered and I snapped back to reality. At my door, I fumbled for my keys, unlocked the heavy door and strode to the double bed at the back of the large, open loft. Pulling up the black duvet, I laid Bella on the bed, turned up the heat in the room and then ran to the bathroom and grabbed a couple clean towels, some tweezers and a roll of bandages.

First, I decided, I would get her dry, clean her wounds and _then_ worry about her concussion.

_Chicken._

She was clad only in a white v-necked t-shirt and jeans. Aside from her soaked hair, she was nearly completely dry and I realized she must have taken off her jacket in her truck before the accident. I lifted her head gently and placed a dry towel under her hair, wrapping it around slightly, attempting to dry her dripping locks. The amount of blood that came off onto the towel scared me and I suddenly wondered if I had not noticed a cut. Running my hands gently threw her hair and across her scalp, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I located a small gash just above her hairline. Small, but deep. I sat back on the bed beside her closed my eyes, and pressed my lips together.

What the fuck had I done? She needed stitches. She needed real medical attention. I grabbed my ridiculous first aid kit and threw it hard at the wall across the room, angry at myself for being so stupid. It was because of me that Bella was lying here, bleeding and unconscious. I grabbed the other dry towel and twisted it into a long strip, then wrapped it around Bella's head. I could at least stop the bleeding.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the tweezers, placed an empty plastic cup on the nightstand and leaned down to examine her arms. The embedded glass was everywhere, zigzagging up and down her arms haphazardly. I went for the largest chunks first, watching her face closely for signs of pain or discomfort. Nothing. I didn't know if that was good thing or a bad one.

The small pieces were the most difficult, but when I was sure I had every single piece, I leaned back, wiping the sweat from my forehead. The plastic cup overflowed with bloody glass and reminded me of a horror movie I had recently caught on cable. It was not a sight for the weak. I bandaged her up the best I could and cringed when I again leaned back—she looked a bit like a mummy.

Inhaling a shaky breath and then letting it out slowly, I found her face with my eyes. I had to wake her up. Gently, I touched her face, running the tips of my fingers across her cheek lightly. Thank god none of the glass had found its way to her beautiful, perfect face.

"Bella? Bella, you have to wake up," I whispered. She didn't move. I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Bella." Louder, now. My hand slid down to her neck and I shivered. The room was not cold. Squeezing gently, I reached my other hand to the exposed patch of skin on her forehead. I couldn't believe I was touching her.

"Bella, you need to open your eyes now," I raised my voice now, cringing slightly at how loud it sounded in the silence of the loft. And then, movement.

"Mmmmmm," she groaned softly and she moved her head slightly to the right.

"That's it; open your eyes, Bella. You're safe," who had time for the truth at a time like this?

Her head rolled back towards me and my heart froze mid-beat as her eyelids fluttered and she groaned again. She was waking up. I took that as my cue and pulled my hands away quickly. Not even hours ago she was convinced I was a killer. I couldn't imagine her opinion could have changed since suffering head trauma.

"Nooooo," the moan was soft and almost playful sounding and so quiet I had to lean forward to hear her. "Edward, your hands. They're so warm."

Or maybe she was actually suffering from extremely severe head trauma?

I slowly placed my right hand on her cheek, waiting for a reaction. A scream, to be precise. Instead, that smile I had missed so much, that smile she use to use just for me, spread across her face as her eyes slowly opened. It took her a moment to focus and then find me. But when she did, the smile broadened and I felt my heart skip a couple beats.

"Hi," she whispered, leaning her cheek into my touch.

"Hi," I said back, completely dumbfounded but insanely happy. It suddenly became my goal to keep that smile on her face.

"I missed you. Where have you been?" I watched as her eyes lost their focus for an instant before coming back to me.

"I-" I was lost. I had no idea how to answer that. Where to even begin. I mentally kicked myself for not feeling more prepared. _All the preparation in the world would never have you ready for this moment._ I knew that.

"You don't visit much anymore. It scares me." I watched, transfixed, as her smile disappeared. Nooo! Screamed my heart, almost too preoccupied with the loss of her smile to grasp her words. Almost but not quite.

My empty hand gripped the duvet tightly as I realized what her words must mean. Her eyes began to glaze over.

"Bella! Bella, stay with me!" I suddenly knew I should not let her fall back into unconsciousness. I also was ready to admit that I was in way the fuck over my head.

Scrambling for my cell phone, which was still buzzing angrily, I flipped it open.

It was Jonze.

"What the fuck were you think--"

"Jonze, I need help."

"Decoy, what's happened?" his anger immediately turned to concern and I knew I'd done the right thing. After many fuck-ups, anyway.

"I'll explain everything later. But I need our medic."

"Doc? Were you shot? What the fuck's going on, Decoy?"

"I'm fine. It's not for me."

The long pause frightened me almost as much as Bella's closing eyes.

"Bring her in," was the answer. I almost dropped the phone.

"To headquarters? But-"

"Bring her in, Decoy. Doc will take a look at her. You and I will talk."

Fuck.

"Jonze, she doesn't know--"

"I'm sure there's a lot she doesn't know, Decoy." I didn't miss the knowing tone in his voice. "Unfortunately, the knowledge that she has recently acquired is dangerous for us all. You know that."

Fuck.

I looked down at Bella, her eyes now closed, her breathing shaky. I had no other choice.

"Okay. She gets medical attention first. And Jonze" I hesitated slightly, "…when she's well-enough, I talk to her first." It wasn't a request.

Pause.

"You better know what the fuck you're doing, Decoy," the growl came before the dial tone.

"I have no fucking clue," I muttered to the tone, my eyes focused on Bella.

No fucking clue.

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**A/N:** Oh dear. Thank you guys for all your awesome reviews, words of encouragement and recc's! I know this chapter took a little longer to get out than usual, but I've been working and going to school. Luckily, I've got some time again! So expect my next chapter up next week:)

As always, I'd love to hear theories! I can say that the next chapter has The Big Confrontation between BxE. Finally! You guys have been patient:) Don't expect puppies and gumdrops just yet though....


	9. Chapter 8 Revelations

**A/N: This is for you guys who love the story but hate how long I take to update. Three days, this time! Hold your applause 'till the end ;) 6,000+...make some popcorn!**

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Chapter Eight Revelations

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**Bella. Monday morning, early.**

Beep…beep...beep.

My eyes opened slowly, painfully, wanting only to locate and then stop the beeping that seemed to echo around in my throbbing head. The whiteness that unexpectedly greeted my eyes caused me to blink them closed again, a frown on my face. So much white. I raised a hand to my head to rub at the throbbing, but stopped suddenly when my eyes encountered a tube hanging from my arm.

"Wha--" I choked on the word, but didn't allow my cracked voice to stop me from opening my eyes again to the blinding glare of whiteness. I sat up quickly, and the beeping increased.

What the hell?

I located the tube and found it was actually coming from my wrist. An IV. I shuddered but followed the tube to find its home. A large clear bag filled with liquid hung from a pole beside me. It was slowly dripping into my blood stream.

Panicked, I leaned forward and turned my head, surveying the room. Four white walls enclosed the bed I was on, a dresser beside me, some shelves, medical machines and an empty chair in the corner. A TV hung high up on the wall near the door. And on the wall across from me, was a large mirror, spanning the entire wall.

A hospital. Okay, okay. I wasn't dead, good. But what had I done? Tripped down my stairs? Smashed into something? Fallen on campus and hit my head? I sat back and started to put my non-IV hand up to my still throbbing head—but stopped cold. My arms were filled with cuts, zigzagging up and down my skin. What the hell had I done to myself? The other arm was worse, the cuts were deeper. Some were bandaged up tightly and I wondered if the doctors had had to stitch me up. Searching my memory, I came up blank. The last thing I could remember was going to Dr. G's apartment and…

Oh God. No.

I closed my eyes and with a breath, yanked the tube from my arm. I yelped slightly at the pinch, but continued to scramble up from the bed, frantically searching for my clothes after I saw I was dressed in a stark white hospital gown. Nothing. It didn't matter. I stood up, ignored the aching pains all over my body and went for the door. I was one step away when it opened suddenly and a man I didn't know walked in, wearing the universal white lab coat that stood for doctor.

"Isabella Swan, is it?" he spoke gently, blocking the door with his tall frame. I peeked around him as best I could, noticing how dark the hallway looked behind him.

"Bella," I croaked, automatically correcting him, my eyes still searching the hallway. Where was the hallway hustle and bustle I was used to?

"Bella, you knocked your head very seriously. It would be best if you could sit down for a few minutes."

I found myself feeling swoony the moment the words left his mouth. I nodded mutely and allowed him to take my elbow and guide me back to the white sheeted hospital bed.

"Is Charlie here?" I asked, holding my head in my hands as I spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"He's—not yet, Ms. Swan," he responded, picking up the IV, changing the needle on the end and inserting it back into my wrist.

"What's that for if I just hit my head?" I asked curiously. And then because it was so much more important, "Did the police find him? Did they get the guy who killed Dr. G?"

"They got him," he nodded.

"What…why did he—who was he?" I asked quickly, ignoring the quickened state of my heart, as the beeping monitor sped up.

"I'm sorry, I don't know many details."

I nodded and leaned back as a fresh wave of dizziness swept over me.

"Is this stuff supposed to make me feel so dizzy?" I asked, my words slurring slightly.

"Yes," was his answer. At that, I lifted my head back up from the pillow and opened my eyes as wide as I possibly could, fighting the feeling that was quickly overpowering me.

"What was your name again?" I asked slowly.

Hesitation. There it was. I saw it.

"You can call me Doc," he answered, a smile set on his face as he checked my vitals. But my mind was racing ahead.

"What hospital is this?" I asked, fear beginning to rise up inside me.

The man, Doc, cleared his throat and glanced towards the wall. No, not to the wall--towards the mirrors. I tried desperately to fight the dizziness, but it was taking me down. I had to remember…I had to. I had to get out of here, wherever here was.

--

There was no beeping this time, only silence. I cracked my eyes slightly, not making a sound. The room was dark this time, except for the red light emanating from the machine beside me as it measured my silent heartbeat.

I didn't know where I was, but it wasn't a real hospital, it couldn't be. I had spent way too much time in hospitals and this one was all wrong. Where were the constantly prodding nurses? The noises and jarring intercom announcements? Why was there such a huge mirror on the wall? Why was the hallway so dark?

Where _was_ I?

Had that man—the killer, was he the one who had run me off the road? Had he taken me here? Was I a prisoner? I kept still in my bed as I contemplated these questions and of course the most important one: how the hell did I get out of here? I just needed to find a phone. I could call Charlie and he could call the police and they would find me. But where was I? What day was it? I pressed my lips together in frustration. They were probably watching me. I hadn't noticed any cameras, but that mirror. I would bet everything I had, everything I owned, that it was a two way mirror. Why else would it be there?

And then the door creaked open. I had my back to the door, but I strained my ears and continued to feign sleeping.

"Decoy?" a whispered voice.

A shuffling from the corner, a soft yawn. Someone had been in there with me? Chills ran up and down my spine and I used every fiber present to not visibly shudder at the thought.

"Jonze wants you," said the voice close to the door.

"No. Not until--" the voice in the corner trailed off.

"He wants you, Decoy. Now," there was an authoritive ring to the voice and it meant business.

A pause from the corner.

"When she wakes up, I need to be here this time. Tell him no," he finally answered, so quietly I could barely make out the words.

"Doc says you have a couple more hours at least. Go, Decoy. If there is any hope for you, get in there and explain yourself. Jonze is only so tolerant, you know that. Go."

There was no answer, but the voice in the corner must have eventually agreed, as I heard him get up from the chair I guessed he had been seated in. His footsteps brought him close to me and he paused. I braced myself. My body was so tensed up, I was sure he would know I was awake. He would know and he would immediately put a bullet in my brain. But instead of feeling a bullet, I felt a pulling sensation. He wasn't touching me, but every single part of me prickled to attention, drawn towards the hovering figure.

His breath was close and I wondered if I should just bunch up my hand and hit blindly. What were the chances that I would hit him? I almost laughed at the thought. Who was I kidding? Instead, I remained still, ignored the prickling sensation, and tried to keep my breathing even until finally I heard his footsteps turn away. The door closed a second later. My breath quickened as I allowed myself to turn over and stare at the door.

Was that him? Was that the man who had killed Dr. G? I didn't know, but I did know I had to get out of there. And fast. Maybe with the killer gone, no one was watching me. I silently pulled out the IV, only wincing this time at the prick of pain. I snaked a glance over at the mirror and prayed to god I wasn't so important that someone was always watching me. I swung my legs over the bed and in one quick lunge; I was at the door, opening it, my heart in my throat. Who knew what was on the other side of the door? I braced myself for voices, shouting, movement. But, nothing. It was dark and deserted and did not look much like a hospital wing. To the right, at the end of the hallway, I spotted a large door. It looked promising, especially when I turned my head left and saw a cross-hall. A cross-hall with a person walking by. I ducked back into my room, waited a minute, and then poked my head back out. Gone. I turned right and sprinted to the giant door. Holding my breath once again, I pushed at the door. The sudden light was nearly blinding. Another hallway, this one lit up, but, thankfully, inactive so far. A phone, as long as I could find a phone. I could call Charlie and tell him…tell him what? I didn't know where I was. Feeling desperate now, I spotted an elevator. Yes. It was close; I only had to make it about five feet. Past three doors. The first room was empty. I kept going. Room number two was also empty. The third room though, the third room contained talking. I tiptoed as close as I dared and stopped. The voices, a woman and man, seemed to be thoroughly engrossed in each other. I stepped by, hit the elevator button and waited, praying silently.

It dinged open and was empty. How was I this lucky? I studied the buttons, wondering which floor I should choose. It looked as though I was on the fifth floor. Should I go to the ground door, or was that too risky? I had no idea, so I hit the G and backed into the corner. I looked down at my hospital gown clad body. I didn't even have a weapon.

Where the hell was I?

Thirty seconds later, the elevator doors whooshed open and I found myself standing mere feet away from a door, a door that had to lead outside. It occurred to me that this could be a trap. Perhaps the other side of the door was exactly where they wanted me. But I had to try. I took a breath and ran for it. Just as my finger tips were within inches of the door, a low voice stopped me.

"And where do you think you're going in such a hurry?" he stepped out from almost nowhere, coming at me from the side. I didn't look; I didn't want to even glance as I made an attempt to push the door before he got to me. No such luck. He grabbed me roughly and pushed my hands behind my back, holding both of my wrists with just one of his large hands. I gasped in pain, twisting, pulling. I had been so close, so close!

"How did you make it this far?" he wondered, his voice grizzled and loaded with something unfamiliar to me. A harshness that was all wrong. "They're losing their edge, this is pitiful." I stopped fighting when I realized there was no use at all and struggled instead to find my voice.

"Please, just let me go. I…I don't know anything. I won't say a word," I plead, as he pushed me down a hallway.

"It's never that easy, angel. Never." I couldn't see his face, but I heard something--sadness? Regret?-- in his voice as he pulled something from him pocket. A key. He unlocked the door to the room in front of me, shoved me inside, and then quickly closed the door behind me. I stumbled into the dimly-lit room as the locking from the outside echoed throughout the space before me. I turned to look at what he'd thrown me into.

The room was completely empty save for a table and two chairs. It looked like the type of room the police kept bad guys for questioning. Again, with like in the hospital room, was a long mirror stretching from one corner to the other of the furthest wall. I made my way to the mirror and pushed my face against the glass, banging with both fists.

"Let me out of here!" I yelled. "Let me out, please!" I yelled until my voice grew tired and then I just continued banging. But no one came and finally, finally I curled up in the corner, my eyes never leaving the door. Eventually, someone would have to come.

--

It felt like hours had gone by, but it could have been minutes. I blinked in and out of consciousness, my mind alternatively tired and then completely alert. Finally, minutes or hours later, there was a click from the other side the door and I straightened my back up against the wall, but remained seated in the furthest corner of the room.

His were eyes wild as they darted frantically around the room and when they spotted me, I watched as emotions ran through them quickly, so quickly, that I could only identify the last and final one.

Relief.

"Bella," said the killer. "Did he hurt you?"

"How do you know my name?" was all I could say. I was tired. I had resigned myself to the fact that they were probably not going to let me leave alive. I was a witness to a murder committed by the very man standing in front of me. "Why did you kill Dr. G?" Questions. I had too many of them. _Why would you care if he hurt me?_

Did the answers matter even anymore, as I faced death?

_Yes._

I watched his eyes blink rapidly a couple times, as though not knowing what to say to me. His eyes ran quickly over my face, down my body, lingering on my arms, and then back up, but not in a sexual way. His onceover seemed to confirm something in his head and he nodded slightly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He ran a hand through his ear-length hair, the color so similar to a color I once knew. But it wasn't. He wasn't.

"Your Dr. G…James Gleason was a bad man. He…he killed two girls last year. He ran an underground drug operation," responded the killer, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, worry written all over his face. "Please," he spoke quickly, "Please sit down," he requested, motioning to one of the chairs.

I shook my head and remained in my corner.

"I don't believe you. Dr. Gleason wouldn't hurt anyone. He is…he was, he _was_ good. He was in charge of the newspaper. I was editor," I spoke, my voice dull. If I'd been paying attention, I would have noticed the man's face light up slightly, in a sudden understanding.

"That's why you were there," he said, more to himself.

"We were going to go over my story. But you killed him. Who are you? Where am I?"

The man hesitated and studied me, his eyes growing sad.

"Please sit down. I know this room isn't very comfortable, but they won't let me…this is all we have right now and there are some things I need…some things I have to tell you, Bella."

I stood up slowly, but didn't move. My eyes flashed.

"How the hell do you know my name?" I glared at him. He took a breath and, as though realizing I wasn't going to sit down, finally faced me. I watched as he straightened his broad shoulders, taking a deep breath.

"Because I've known you since we were sixteen, Isabella Swan."

_No._

"No," I whispered.

"Yes," he responded softly, taking a step toward me. "We met at Forks High School."

"No, stop this," my throat closed up at his words.

"Chemistry class. When you smiled, my world melted away, Isabella," he spoke again, taking another step. I pressed my back firmly to the wall.

"No," quieter now, uncertain of my denial, as I looked into his eyes. Those eyes.

"Our first kiss was in our meadow, Bella. The same meadow we would come back to and look up at your star."

I shook my head, my eyes wide. How could he know this…how could he--?

"Yes," he was almost in front of me now, his voice barely a whisper as he stared into my eyes, searching. His hand came up and moved towards me, towards my face. Terror coursed through my veins and I reacted.

"No!" I yelled the word and lashed out; I hit his hand away and went for the door. It wasn't him, it couldn't be, how could it? I turned the handle. Locked.

"They won't let you go, Bella."

I collapsed to my knees at his words, my hands still on the doorknob, dry sobs shaking my body. And then:

"My heart, forever. Keep it safe."

Those words. Oh god, those words.

I turned my head slowly, my fingers reflexively grasping the ring hanging under my hospital gown. Finding my feet, I stood, turning all the way around, facing the man head on.

"How…?" I don't know how he heard me, my voice was barely audible, but his answer came quickly.

"Bella, it's me. You found me."

Only one person knew the words inscribed inside the ring and that was Edward Masen, the one who had put them there. I stepped forward; I stepped towards impossibility, my heart staggering in my chest. I searched his face, searched his eyes for the truth I had been refusing to see. They were his eyes. They were. I'd known it from the moment I saw him in Dr. G's apartment.

"Edward?" I whispered now, stopping directly in front of him. I put a hand to his face, ran my fingers down his cheek, and watched as he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply at my touch. Goosebumps covered my arms, but I ignored them and continued my exploration.

I traced my fingers down to his strong jaw, eying the small scar that had graced the edge of his chin since before I had known him. Back up to his eyes. They were open again, filled with things I could now recognize. Longing, regret, pain. Fear. I traced a finger to his lips and he parted them slightly, his breath coming out shakily. He reached a hand to my face, brushing back a lock of my hair that barely obstructed my view of him.

"Oh god, E-Edward," the emotion in my voice caused me to stutter his name, but the realization was beginning to sink in and I pulled my hand away quickly, as though suddenly electrocuted by our touch. I suddenly needed to be away from him, out of range from the magnetic field. The undeniable pull.

My mouth dropped open and I backed away, my head shaking. My body screamed at me, wanted so badly to wrap him in a hug and find his lips, his hair, his body. But I resisted. I suddenly needed that chair; I felt my legs giving out. I found it in time and sat back hard, trying to form words, my eyes never leaving his face. He watched me helplessly, his hands clenched into fists. Waiting.

"But, you died. I watched you die. I held you in my arms and watched you take your last breath," I spoke slowly, my eyes taking this man in from a different perspective. He had changed so much. His features held a certain hardness, a warning to not get too close. Had that always been there? Had I just been too blindly in love before? _Who cares! Go to him, he's real!_ But still, I ignored the magnetism that begged to be acknowledged.

"Bella. I have a lot to tell and I'd rather tell it to you somewhere more…not here."

"But, it's you. Edward." I said his name softly, wonder in my voice, gripping tightly to the edges of the chair. His eyes flashed momentarily of hope and he took a step towards me.

"Can I take you back to the hospital room?"

"Please, no. I don't want to go back there," I shivered. And then, "It was you in the chair? Waiting?"

He nodded silently. And I exhaled. He'd been so close, watching over me.

"I need to hear everything…Edward. Who are you?" How many times had I asked that? But now it was time for the truth. Who had I been mourning the past five years?

He sighed, ran a hand threw his hair and found the chair across the table from me, his jaw tightening.

"This is not how I wanted you to find out, Bella. I—I pictured this so many ways, but this…I'm so sorry." The torture on his face twisted at my heart and I wanted to touch him, to reassure him, but I stayed planted in my chair. I could not move.

"I tried to tell you as much about me as I could, Bella. I never wanted to lie to you, I didn't. The moment I met you, I wanted to take you away, to run away with you, to be with you and protect you from my life. There was so much I could never tell you." He looked down at his hands and then back up to me, the pain evident as he creased his brow in a frustration I was trying to make sense of.

"My parents were killed before I moved to Forks. Murdered," he paused but rushed on before I could say anything. Not that I knew what to say. I was in shock, frozen. I felt as though the earth had stopped rotating and everything and everyone was waiting on this moment--this moment that would decide a certain fate.

"They had worked for the government…they were agents for a very classified branch of the government. To this day, I still don't know all the details. What I do know is they weren't just murdered; they were tortured and then burned alive in our home. I was there, I wasn't supposed to be, but I was and I heard their screams…I still hear their screams, " he trailed off, his expression bitter for an instant as his eyes drifted out of focus and then quickly snapped back to me. "I wanted revenge, Bella. I wanted to kill the people who did this to my parents. To me. I was so angry. I found the right people, people affiliated with the government and they took me in. They wanted this man and the lowlifes working for him dead just as much as I did and so they trained me and set me up for an elaborate hit, a hit that not only would take care of the man who killed my parents, but would also reveal his partners."

At that word, I spoke. I had been playing around with it in my head as I listened, but now, to hear it…

"A hit?"

"When I came to Forks I was only there for one reason. I had been trained by the CIA to be a hit man. I was there to kill the people that killed my parents. And I did. And after that, I met someone. I tried to fight my feelings at first, but it didn't work. I fell completely and unexpectedly in love with her."

He paused, his eyes intense and I lowered my head.

His voice changed, grew sad.

"Those were the best months of my life, Bella. With you, with us. I never wanted to leave you, but I had to. Part of the deal was that Edward Masen would die, he was no longer of any use to me, and I had been ready to move on under a new name, a name that couldn't be attached to my parents or my old life. I had literally signed away my life when I'd joined. Edward Masen had to die and I had agreed easily. After I met you though, I tried so hard to get out of it, to leave, to keep my life. But I owed them and they weren't going to just let me walk away."

"The bruises," I suddenly whispered, my eyes snapping up to his across the table. "They were all over your body."

He nodded. "They didn't want me to forget the deal; the bruises were a reminder of their power and of my promise. I knew the day was coming, I knew they were going to fake my death eventually. I wanted to tell you, Bella, so badly, but I was afraid that if I did, they would find out and they would hurt you. I was scared. And then the day came. The day I gave you the ring. The car accident. I don't remember much, but I know they gave me a pill, something that stopped my heart for an hour. Long enough to convince the people that needed to be convinced."

He stopped talking as I attempted to digest the enormity of this information.

"And then? You've been working for them ever since?"

He shook his head.

"They were mad at me for how I handled things. They didn't want me working for their program; they thought I was too much of a liability, a risk. I moved away. I lived in LA for a few years, working as a contract agent until I was recruited by this operation," I watched as he—as Edward—swept his eyes around the room and then found my face again. "I've been here ever since, laying low."

"How many years?" I asked.

"How many—?"

"How many years have you been living in the same city as me?"

"I've been here for two years, "he answered slowly, his eyes weary.

"Two years," I muttered, surprised. "We could have run into each other anywhere. We could have walked by each other on the street. I could have looked up one day at the grocery store and seen your eyes looking back."

"You wouldn't have recognized me, Bella. Look at me. I'm barely a shadow of the guy you knew." I studied his face, his long hair, his physique. He had changed, yes. Probably in so many more ways than in the physical sense, but I would have known. I had known tonight…denial was an interesting method of dealing.

"Did you ever try to…did you ever think of contacting me?" I asked softly, learning forward slightly in my chair, allowing the pull to have its way for a moment.

"Every single day. But I couldn't, Bella. It was so dangerous and you were safely ignorant to who I was."

"I wasn't ignorant to who you were. I knew who you were. You mean, who you are," I repeated, correcting him, my voice low. I pulled my body back into the chair.

"Who I am," he spoke, pain evident in his voice.

"Who are you, Edward Masen? Oh wait, Edward is dead. What do they call you now?"

He paused.

"I can't say, Bella. I'm sorry. They—the people that I work for—have restricted me from revealing anything more about our operation."

Anger began to mount within and I glared at the man in front of me.

"Well, I guess I wasn't that far off. You are a ghost. Edward is dead and you don't have a name."

He started down at his hands.

"How do I get out of here, Edward? I need to go home," I stated tiredly.

"Jonze wants to talk to you. He needs to make a decision about…what needs to happen. The car that ran you off the road? They will be looking for you. They're Gleason's men and they want…they want you dead. We need to find them before they find you. I don't doubt that they've already searched your apartment. He has an agent heading over there right now."

"I…can't go home?"

Edward sighed sadly.

"Not yet."

My head heavy, I lowered it to the surface of the table, closing my eyes against the pounding of my head.

"How long?" I whispered.

"We don't know yet, Bella. It could take days, weeks."

"No. How long have you known that I lived in Seattle? How long?" I said the words without emotion, but the question was loaded.

_Do you really want to know the answer?_ I cringed, but opened my eyes and moved my head so I could see his face. The face that I had longed for every day for five years, the face I thought I would never see again. The face that spent five years knowing I was alive, but not contacting me, the face that allowed me to continue living a façade.

The face looked away and I knew. My eyes closed again. I didn't know everything, but I knew enough and my stomach lurched at the thought that pushed itself into my head. No, no, no.

"Go away," the words came out softly, but we both heard .

"I don't want to lie to you, Bella. I knew you were here when I moved back."

"Go away, Edward." I responded.

"Bella, let me—"

"Not now. Please leave."

My heart was hurting and I couldn't look at him. He was the only person I had ever loved, the only one I had ever wanted. The one I hadn't been able to let go of for five years because I still felt his presence. I had been holding onto his heart; he had asked me to hold onto his heart, to keep it safe. Maybe I should have asked him to do the same with mine.

I heard his chair push back and his steps reach the door.

"We're going to be transferring you to one of our safe houses, Bella. Jonze will be in to tell you what's happening."

I didn't acknowledge that I'd heard. Instead, I pressed my eyes tightly together and wondered if this could all possibly be a bad dream.

"I'm sorry Bella. So sorry." A pause, and then softly, "They call me Decoy."

The door closed behind him.

--

**Edward. Monday morning.**

I watched through the glass as Jonze talked to her. I couldn't see his face, but I could see hers. She was sitting up in her chair now, but her shoulders slumped forward. She looked defeated, her face expressionless. I wondered when all my words would sink in, when she would come up with the hardest questions of all.

Tell her before she can ask. Tell her or you'll lose her forever.

"This shit sucks, but it happens," spoke the man beside me, Trace. I turned my head slightly to give him a look then turned my attention back to Bella.

"Not to me."

Trace shut up quickly and I hit the transmit button. Jonze's dry voice met my ears.

"You have to understand, Ms. Swan, that this operation is beyond classified. If the public found out about us, all hell would break lose, chaos would ensue. I can't stress enough the importance of secrecy."

"I won't tell," replied Bella's voice, dull, void of emotion.

_You did that to her!_ Screamed my head.

"We're going to need to get you to sign documents. Everything you've seen and heard here must never leave your lips. We have to make sure of that." I watched as Bella's face twitched slightly at those words.

"What if I get caught? What if I get tortured? I can't help what I say under duress."

I cringed at her tone, but felt a small amount of pride run through me. She was challenging Jonze, almost taunting him. Whether she realized it or not, she was messing with the wrong man. Bella was tougher than I had ever given her credit for.

"You will have plenty of time to learn that that wouldn't be wise. D-Edward told you we're moving you to a safe house?"

She nodded; the fight had left her as quickly as it had come. I turned away, my guilt flaring.

"Alice," I heard her say and I turned back. "Alice will wonder where I am."

"We'll take care of it, MS. Swan."

"Who's going to the safe house with her?" asked Trace, his eyes on Jonze. I hit the transmit button once more, silencing the voices from the next room.

"I am," I spoke, my eyes flashing.

"Jonze gave you the okay?" Trace responded, his voice surprised.

"Not yet. But it doesn't matter."

"Damn, Decoy." But he didn't say anything else and my glare didn't invite anything different. I turned back to the window to see Jonze hand Bella a pile of clothes. They weren't the clothes she had arrived in, but they were her exact size and fit. He said something else to her and then left the room. I watched as she glared at the mirror, and felt as though she were glaring right at me, though I'm sure she didn't know I was there. I ran a hand across my face and sighed.

Jonze entered the small room a minute later and Trace escaped quickly, muttering some excuse.

"You're lucky, Decoy," he said, "She's not going to talk."

I nodded. I had told him that, Bella wouldn't. I knew her.

_You used to know her._

"You fucked up big time."

I nodded. I knew that, too. But I had to hold on to my position until I got Bella out of this. I needed the access and power the operation provided me with, at least until Bella was safe.

"You know I know your past, _Edward_. You should have seen this. You should have known Swan was Gleason's student. How could you have fucking missed that?"

I knew it was best to keep quiet as he worked through his anger.

"You were the best for this job because you're meticulous and you follow protocol. You don't ever let emotion get in the way of a hit. You're focused and dedicated. But you fucking turned around and went back, Decoy…you went back! Now we've got a mess on our hands that we've got to clean up quietly and quickly."

My silence stretched on.

"Gleason's men have been to Swan's apartment. We don't know their interest in her just yet, but it has to be related to the fact that she was in that apartment. How they knew she was there, we have yet to find out." I turned my eyes back to the window and was surprised to see Bella fully dressed in the jeans and long sleeved black shirt Jonze had handed her, her hospital gown waded up on the table. Jonze followed my gaze.

"You'll meet her at the safe house later. Seth and Jared will take her and keep an eye on her until then. You've got some work ahead of you, my man. I need you to get your ass over to district. Quickly." We were both silent a moment as we watched Bella find her corner again and slide her back down the wall, her eyes on the door. "You know, this isn't the end for you, D. You're too good. I'm going to be doing damage control with The Boss in an hour. He likes you."

I wasn't sure yet how I felt about that. I watched as two agents, Seth and Jared, entered the room and spoke a few words to Bella. Bella stood up from the corner and, after a moment's hesitation and a glance towards the mirror, allowed them to lead her from the room. I watched as she disappeared and fought the urge to run after her. To pull her close to me and reassure her.

I was already way the fuck over my head so when Jonze left a moment later, I pulled out my cell phone, and dialed Jasper's number.

I needed one last favor and I hoped to hell he would consent.

* * *

**A/N:** No cliffhanger! Right? That wasn't bad! Right? I'm trying! And for those of you who are yearning for more angst (and I totally love you guys!), don't worry, it's coming! Bella is only just beginning to realize the implications of what Edward has revealed. She will have lots of time to think about what it all means next chapter in the safe-house.

Leave me a review and tell me what you think so far, I love hearing from you guys--theories, things you liked abt the chapter/things you really thought didn't work, or just geberal comments! And see, those complaining reviews totally got me to crank this one out faster! Also, I know I'm not the greatest at getting back to comments on here (unless you ask a specific question or have a complaint..), but if you head over to twilighted(dot)com I get back to every single person who reviews!


	10. Chapter 9 SafeHouse

**Bella, Monday night.**

The word "safe-house" had conjured images from the movies--all _I_ knew on the subject--of small, dark and dank, littered with dirty mattresses --but this? This was not at all any of those. From the outside, it didn't look like much, though the beauty that surrounded the house had quickly gathered my attention. The two agents, Seth and Jared, as they had introduced themselves to me, had put me in the back of a tinted black Escalade and we had driven quickly for a couple of hours down the coast. Eventually, after a small trek through the forest (and only two mishaps—the first, a trip over a root and the second, a trip over Seth's foot), we stopped in front of the safe-house which sat on top of a steep hill above a sandy beach—all leading to one of my favorite places: the pacific ocean.

"Wow," I muttered.

"Better than you had expected?" grinned one of the agents--Seth, I reminded myself. He had a sideways grin that instinctively made me want to smile back, and he exuded a quiet friendliness that I was thankful for. Especially since the other one, Jared, seemed his opposite.

"Thank the taxpayers," grumbled Jared, motioning for me to keep following him.

"Don't mind him, Ms. Swan, he hates the great outdoors," replied Seth, bringing up the rear, his sharp eyes carefully surveying the woods around us.

"Bella. Call me Bella."

The house itself, from the outside at least, was modest, with no distinguishing characteristics--which I quickly realized was the point. Its faded grey exterior blended in perfectly with the overcast sky. Small, but not a shack, it didn't demand attention or even a second glance. But the inside…apparently, that's where all the taxpayers money went. It was decorated perfectly in outdoorsy cherry wood tones. Upon entering, the short hallway opened into a huge, open room—the living room, I figured. A huge cocoa L-shaped couch sat in front of a gigantic television and media area. Slightly to the left of the media equipment was a beautiful old fireplace, wood neatly stacked nearby. Near the couch stood a finely crafted wooden rocking chair and close to that, an overstuffed loveseat. The walls were adorned with very dark toned art-work which, despite my fatigue, I noticed pulled the room together impressively. My thoughts turned to Alice for a moment as I realized just how much she would appreciate the décor of this place. Something twisted painfully at my heart but I ignored it and allowed the numbness I'd been holding onto to fall back into place.

I couldn't fall apart now.

"You hungry? Kitchen's this way," spoke Seth, smiling at me gently.

"Movies are so full of lies," I muttered, giving the living room one last glance and pushing all thoughts of Alice from my mind.

"I'm going to go secure the perimeter," said Jared, grabbing a duffle bag and heading back out the front door. I wondered exactly what that meant.

I followed Seth into a kitchen that was also completely done in a deep wooden cherry. It was open, with a brown granite island in the middle. Towards the front end of the kitchen, a glassed in kitchen nook overlooked the choppy grey ocean. As always, the sky seemed on the verge of an angry outburst.

"This place is…are you sure this is a safe-house?" I asked, turning to Seth.

"Yeah, this is one of our nicer ones, a prototype of what we want future houses to mimic. We're lucky they didn't put you in the one closer to the city. It's pretty gross. Seen a lot of action."

At his words, my mouth opened slightly, but Seth didn't notice my horrified expression as he rummaged through the pantry.

"Unfortunately, they haven't improved on the food situation. Non-perishables," he said, holding up a can of beans with an apologetic expression. "Whoever comes up later will probably bring some better stuff."

I wanted so badly to ask if it would be Edward. I wanted it so badly to _be_ Edward.

_You told him to go away._

I refrained from asking and the knot in my stomach tightened another notch.

"Where do I sleep?" I asked, averting my eyes and fidgeting with my hair, curling a strand around my finger and then releasing it.

"Oh! Damn, I'm sorry. You're probably exhausted, let me show you. This place is really just one floor and you'll be staying in the room at the end of the hallway, off the living room. Come on." I followed Seth once more across the living room and down a wide hallway. We stopped at a closed door at the end.

"I don't want to freak you out too much, Bella, but I've got to show you this," he said softly, switching on the light. Like the rest of the house, the room was decorated like it was ready for a Pottery Barn photo shoot. In the plain jeans and shirt, bandaged arms and limp hair, I felt like I didn't fit.

I watched as Seth stood in front of a painting depicting a white wooden chair sitting in front of a white sandy beach and brilliant blue water. I studied the picture and then looked at Seth in confusion. Was I supposed to know something about the picture?

"Uhm, I don't know much about art, but it's not that freaky…I was expecting a Salvador Dali," I joked weakly, confused. Seth just smiled and then touched the bottom right corner of the picture. I followed his gaze and knew my mouth must have been hanging open as I watched the built in bookcase suddenly move silently aside, revealing a small opening in the wall that disappeared into darkness.

"This is for emergencies, Bella. There are passageways just like this one located all over the house and they all lead to the same two places. The first is a panic room. If anything happens here, Bella, if anyone finds us, you can locate any passage and lock yourself in the panic room. There is enough food and water in there to last for weeks. The second is an underground exit. It twists and turns and goes on for awhile, but ultimately, it will spit you out close to the highway, fairly far from here. Far enough that you would be very far ahead of anyone after you."

My throat dry, I swallowed roughly as he touched the place on the picture again and the bookcase slid shut.

"Don't worry; the chances are slim to none. But just in case—it's better to be prepared. I'll show you the rest later. Oh, and we'll have more clothes for you in a few hours, as well. Now get some rest."

I managed a small smile and watched as Seth closed the door.

"Oh! Seth, wait. Can anyone get in from the tunnels? I mean, from wherever the opening is by the highway? Would anyone be able to find it and sneak in here?"

"No, you're safe. Our men are the only ones who know where it is. And even _we_ would be hard-pressed to get in from the outside. The opening is not easy to find."

I nodded, but for some reason, that didn't make me feel any better.

--

I spent the next 24 hours wide awake.

I spent the following 24 hours tossing and turning and sometimes sleeping. And between those 48 hours, there was no sign of Edward. Jared had traded out with another agent—Embry, I had heard Seth call him. Seth stayed though, and for that I felt grateful. Despite the fact that he spent most of his time outside watching the surrounding area, I was always happy to see his smiling face when he came in to grab some food or warm up from the chilly nights and check up on me.

As much as I wanted to, I could not seem to shut off my brain. I kept playing and re-playing the scene at Dr. G's apartment and the following events. It all seemed so surreal and I never would have believed it, had my arms not been covered in bandages and my life suddenly reduced to a safe-house.

And then there was Edward. I had tried so hard not to think about him, but how could I not? He was alive! Alive and healthy and a…killer—a hitman, I told myself. He had been a hitman since the day I first met him--he had been planning his first hit the day I had smiled at him in the hallway of Forks High. The day he had averted my eyes and kept walking.

_That's why he acted the way he did_, I realized, after waking up from a particularly fitful sleep. I stared up at the ceiling, my arms resting carefully at my sides, so as not to disturb the cuts. He had been so shut off from everyone around him, so careful not to make any friends. He had had an agenda and it had not been to make friends. Or to date. Or to fall in love?

_But he let you in, Bella_. He must have known it was a horrible idea, but he let you in as much as he could. And then he faked his own death. Because it was dangerous to remain Edward Masen? Dangerous to stay in Forks?

Those bruises and cuts, I would never forget them. Only days before the "accident" he had come to school looking absolutely defeated both physically and mentally. When he had given me some vague excuse as to what had happened, I remember feeling angry at him. I knew there was something in his past that had been dark, something he didn't want me to know. But to lie to me? I had been angry and hurt. But now--he'd said he had tried to get out…he had tried to stay. He fought for me, for us. But it hadn't been enough.

As much as I had wanted to throw my arms around him and never let go—I was angry. He had gone on with his life for five years without even contacting me. The reasonable part of me knew I shouldn't be angry…I should just be happy that he was alive. But the anger won every time and I had so many questions. I needed to see him.

I needed to feel that he was _real_. The ache inside me wouldn't go away and I needed to touch him again.

Clothes had been delivered to me via Seth and as I slipped out of bed, I decided to change and find some food. I opened the duffle beside the nightstand and almost shouted with a surprised happiness. On top of the pile was my favorite pair of worn jeans. I dug deeper to see familiar t-shirts and a blue hoodie given to me by Charlie last year. At the bottom were my beat up chucks and a small bathroom kit. And…_Pride and Prejudice_? There, right beneath my shoes, was a worn copy of my favorite book. But how…who…? I shrugged. Maybe it was the first book they saw and just shoved it in. A thought nagged at my mind, but I chose to ignore it, instead slipped on the jeans, a fitted navy v-neck shirt and my blue chucks. I then carried the kit and book to the bathroom and brushed my teeth for a good ten minutes, reveling for another moment at the freshness of my breath and the shininess of my teeth. It was amazing how much better a person could feel in favorite clothes and with minty fresh breath. And tomorrow, I would peel off all the gauze and bandages and attempt the shower. I was looking forward to feeling clean again, but not to the pain I knew my cut-up arms would go through.

As usual when I stepped into the living room, it was quiet and empty. Seth and the other agent were probably doing their rounds. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but they were out there constantly, watching, waiting. I shivered. Waiting for what or who, I didn't know and I hoped to never find out. I made my way quietly into the kitchen, found a can of chili, opened it, and dumped it into a ceramic bowl retrieved from the cherry cabinets. I lifted myself up onto the dark granite counter-top to watch the bowl rotate in the microwave, my feet swinging impatiently. I hadn't eaten for days. My stomach was hating me.

When the time beeped, I extracted the bowl from the microwave and brought it out into the living room, curling up on the couch to eat. I half hoped Seth would come in so I could ignore my own thoughts for awhile and erase the unnatural silence of the cabin. Used to the constant noise of the city, it was a bit unnerving to be wrapped in such an endless silence.

Again, my mind returned to Edward. I wondered what he was doing—if he was tracking down the men who had run me off the road. Or was he somewhere else entirely, getting in trouble from his people. My heart pulled suddenly, wondering why he hadn't just left after he shot Dr. G. He could have escaped and then none of this would have been his problem. I would have called the police, but he apparently was the police and so it wouldn't have mattered. Would those men still have found me? Would they have tried to kill me later? They knew where I lived, after all. But what the hell did they want with me? And god, Dr. G. Edward had said—he'd said that Dr. G had killed two girls…had been involved in a drug operation? How could that be—he was Dr. G; funny, charming, smart. And now, dead.

A deep shudder ran threw me and I pushed the bowl of chili away, my appetite ruined. I would need time to digest that, but for now, I wanted nothing more than to ignore it. Just as I grabbed my book, planning on delving in to my favorite dog-eared sections, the lights flickered and I heard thunder rumble angrily in the distance. Heavy drops of rain started to hit the roof of the cabin rhythmically.

Dear stupid, wet, Washington. I hate you.

The lights flickered again and I stood up to find a flashlight. It seemed a power outage was inevitable. I rummaged through the kitchen drawers, finally finding a wimpy little flashlight near the back. Shouldn't a safe-house be chalk full of nifty high-powered flashlights? I made a mental note to ask Seth if he had an extra when he stopped in—which, if the lights went out, would probably be soon.

The lights flickered again as I made my way back to the living room and this time they didn't come back on. I sighed and settled on the couch in the dark, my heartbeat quickening instinctively. The last time the power went out, I found myself in a room with a dead man and a ghost. I hoped not to repeat that particular experience.

I heard a noise coming from the kitchen and I held my breath, straining to hear, my pulse pounding in my ears. I switched off my wimpy light and ducked low on the couch, my eyes on the opening to the kitchen. I would see whoever it was first. I glanced at the wall across from me, where the TV hung. Beside the TV, hung a painting of a long dark road surrounded by tall thick trees. I could make it. I could run right now, get threw that tunnel and find somewhere safe.

_This_ was supposed to fucking be safe. And yet…

My eyes still trained on the doorway, I clutched my flashlight close.

And then, a tapping. But this time it wasn't from the kitchen, no, it was coming from the front door only feet away from where I shook.

_Tap, tap, tap_. Seth? Maybe when the lights went out, the doors automatically barred or something hi-tech like that—I was grasping desperately at remaining reasonable.

Shaking, I stood but remained low. Was I just being paranoid? I took a step towards the door and paused.

The dead-bolt was securely in place and I sighed slightly.

"Bella! Bella! Run, Bella!" yelled a voice from outside. Seth. His words didn't register properly and when I clicked open the deadbolt; I was greeted by a hard shove backwards.

"The passage, go, go!" his urgency scared me and as I caught my balance, I took one look at his face before lunging for the picture frame and hitting the button. Seth had turned his dripping frame towards the front door, his gun aimed and ready to fire.

The panel swung open and I bent slightly to enter the dark, cool passage. Turning, I watched as Seth backed towards me, his gun still aimed.

"Bella, go!" His voice was strained, like he was speaking through clenched teeth. "All the way, run as fast as you can to the end of the passage. When you get out into the woods, hide. Edward is on his way. He will find you."

Swallowing back a terrified sob, I turned at exactly the same time the shooting began, plunging into a darkness I had never known.

--

**Edward, Tuesday, early morning**

Because I didn't know where else to start, I went to Bella's apartment. As I unlocked her apartment door using the key provided for me by Jonze, I found it oddly disturbing to be invading her personal space without her permission--which was completely hypocritical of me, as I'd been doing exactly that for the last five years. But never had I stepped foot into her home.

Even completely trashed, the small space spoke volumes about Bella. The most distressing part? It spoke volumes that I had never known were written—the framed pictures of people I didn't recognize, the movies I didn't know she liked, the CD's scattered about containing names I'd never pegged Bella for liking, let alone purchasing.

_You thought you knew her. You thought you knew every detail about her. You thought watching her from a distance, taking pictures of her, knowing her schedule meant you knew this Bella Swan. You were so very wrong. _

I had to shake my head to clear out my astonishment and save dealing with those poisonous thoughts for later. The task at hand was much more important at the moment, and I pushed the sting of realization back. These men-- they'd been looking for something and I had to know what it was. What could they possibly want from Bella?

Only hours ago at the district office, a team had been put together and briefed on the current circumstances surrounding Gleason. Jonze had divulged as little as possible to his men, but they knew something serious was up and they knew it involved me. I had ignored their looks as the man we rarely saw and even more rarely spoke to beckoned me to his swanky corner office.

Huge and intimating, always in a Gucci suit and gold watch just about summed up The Boss. He offered me a scotch and when I refused, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Grudging respect? Pity? Disdain? I didn't know. He was impossible to read and it freaked the shit out of me.

"Decoy. I understand you knew this girl in another life."

"Yes," I answered, my leg jiggling uncontrollably. I couldn't help it; I was anxious to start investigating and even more anxious to see Bella. But I knew they wouldn't let me near her until I'd earned it. Earned something. I wasn't even sure which safe-house they'd brought her too. I was not getting any information until I gave some.

"Yes. My first life. Met her after my first job," I answered honestly, but without detail. In our field, we talked in lives, as many of us had led more than one. Some, I knew, had led more many more than two. The possibility that I could one day be one of those men frightened me.

_Who are we? We're nobody._

"And you were…involved?"

"Yes. For a short period of time. She thought I was dead. Today, I revealed myself to her. Told her who I am."

"Yes, but did you tell her _what_ you are?" he sneered slightly on the "what" and sipped at his scotch, his eyes bitter.

I remained silent. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer that one.

"I don't care why you did it, Decoy. I don't even care that you fucked this job up. What I care about is one of my best men broke almost every code we live by. What I care about is deciding what to do about this."

"Sir. I'm going to tell you what I want and you can tell me if it's possible, given what I've done," I paused. I was taking a risk talking to The Boss like this, but I realized I just had to lay it out for him. If he decided not to be agreeable, I would have to do it myself. There were no other options, not if I was going to save Bella. "I want to find the men who are looking for Bella. I want to kill them. I want Bella to be able to walk away from this without getting sucked in. And after all that is done, I want out."

I tried not to hold my breath. I painted confidence on my face and felt a steely determination take residence in my eyes. I'd just asked a lot, but by the look on his face, he wasn't a bit surprised by my request. He swirled his drink thoughtfully, ice clanking in his glass, his eyes distant.

"Did you know I knew your parents, Edward?"

What?

"What? N-no, sir. I didn't know that. How…where?" I couldn't seem to finish my thoughts as I stared at the hulking man in shock, my confident mask slipping away. This was not where I had thought the conversation would go.

"They were good people, they were. Last ones to deserve what happened to them. You think they'd be proud of you?" his vacant stare suddenly turned intense as he threw the question at me.

I broke eye contact quickly and hung my head, biting the inside of my cheek.

"No," I replied with a quiet honestly. The question hurt, but the answer hurt more. I'd been asking myself that exact question for years and always came to the same conclusion: there was no way they could be proud of what I had become.

Silence blanketed the room and I looked back up, my eyes steady again. The Boss's eyes had gone back to vacant and far-away.

"She'll be safe. She's already been sucked in, Decoy, you know that. But we will keep her as safe as we can from all of this," The Boss swept his hand around the room absently. "We will find those men and you will kill them," I nodded. But it was the last part of my request that I was waiting to hear answered.

"Walking away, walking away for good, Decoy--it's not that easy."

It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no either and as we lapsed back into silence, I knew better than to ruin the moment.

Back in Bella's apartment, I allowed myself a small feeling of hope—it depended on a lot, but for the moment, I would keep that hope tucked away. After searching the apartment thoroughly, I knew there wasn't a shred of evidence left behind. They were good. Whoever they were, they knew the ropes. I turned to leave when a sudden thought occurred to me. Bella would want her own things, her own clothes. I found a small duffle in a closet and gathered a few items I knew she wore often; a pair of faded jeans she was always in, a sweatshirt I knew she must love. Her chucks, which I knew she wore religiously, and a few other shirts. Her toothbrush and a brush. Underwear—I had to force myself through that drawer quickly and not stop to gape at the black, lacey…_no, moving on_. Deep, calming breaths. What else would a girl want? That was a stupid question; Bella was like no other girl I knew. What else would _Bella_ want? I stood still for a moment, surrounded by her possessions and feeling helpless.

_You don't know her anymore_ whispered my mind.

I shook that thought away and approached the area of the carpet were the intruders had emptied her bookshelf. Quickly, I plucked _Pride and Prejudice_ from the floor and stuffed it in the bottom of the duffle bag. She had loved it in high school, I knew. She would read it over and over, smiling at her favorite passages.

"_Why do you even bother reading it anymore?" I had asked one lazy day as we lounged contentedly at the beach, Bella reading her book as I threw rocks out into the ocean. "Don't you have it memorized yet?"_

"_My memory never does it justice," she had replied, smiling up at me as I'd trailed my fingers lightly down her bare shoulders._

We had almost forgotten the book on the beach that day, as our hands took on minds of their own, wandering over salty skin as we discovered the beginning of endless summer days. I wondered vaguely, as I pulled myself painfully from that particular reverie, if the copy I'd just packed away was the same one from that day.

Zipping the bag shut, I strode to the door and let myself out, swinging the bag onto my shoulder. I handed the bag off to a nearby agent, Embry, who I knew was heading to the safe-house later. I wished like hell it was me going, but I was with Jonze and the team, searching as quickly as possible to figure out where these men were, _who _they were. Every minute would count.

_It'll give her time to think. Time to digest everything. Time to make some realizations?_

Back in my Volvo, my phone started buzzing.

"Jasper," I stated quickly.

"E. They've got her at the proto-house, the one down the coast. Agent Clearwater is on full duty out there, with other agents trading off."

"Thank you." I let out a small breath. The Boss wasn't lying--they really wanted her kept safe, if they were using the prototype safe-house. The place was hard to find, hard to get into, and was full of state of the art technology. And they had Clearwater on constant duty. He was the best at what he did. I hesitated. "How's Alice?"

"Freaked out. She doesn't believe a thing they told her and she's been having bad dreams. She's worried. I'm worried. I've got to just tell her the truth, E, or I'll lose her. It'll come out. We both know it will come out. And I can't lose her."

I nodded silently.

"If I'd known…if I'd ever even thought you and Bella's best friend…I've fucked up a lot, Jasper."

"So have I, E. You know that. I'm going to tell her and that means everything. I'll have to tell her about Bella. You."

I nodded again. "Okay."

"No fight?" he asked, sounding slightly surprised.

"A relationship based on lies doesn't work. It can't. Tell her, Jasper. And then keep her safe, because by telling her, you're putting her in danger. Make sure to reassure her that Bella is safe."

Silence.

"Thanks, E. Call me if you need anything else. Anything, my man."

**

What I didn't hear, I would never know. I would never know how the conversation went, or how the decision was made. I would never know why he had thought it a good idea or how much they were willing to pay him. I wouldn't even know—_suspect_--any of it until later. All I would know from that night was what Seth Clearwater told me Wednesday night--his usual light, playful tones gone, in place a terrifying seriousness that I'd not heard from the young agent before.

I had been back at Gleason's apartment, painstakingly going through every folder, every scrap of paper I could find. My eyes were burning from lack of sleep and as I slugged back the last swallow of coffee from a Styrofoam cup, my cell phone began buzzing.

"Decoy," I answered, my eyes skimming a new document quickly.

"Decoy? Decoy? They're here, they've shot Embry; they're on the way to the cabin…five of them, Decoy. How did they—fuck. They're close and Bella's inside." The quiet tone of his voice led me to believe he was outside, tracking.

"Protect her, Seth, get inside. Protect her. I'm on my way." I raced down to street level and was in the Volvo in a matter of seconds.

"Power's out. Hurry." Seth's last words echoed in my head.

Fuck.

Heart in throat, I calculated my time. One-hundred and fifteen minutes…plus another thirty to trek to the safe-house through the woods. I wouldn't make it there…I couldn't make it there in time to count. They cut the power. They knew. How the hell did they know?

My foot heavy on the gas pedal, I proceeded to break one of my least favorite laws.

The underground passage, I realized. Seth against five unknowns? They would be forced to take the passage--I realized this with a jolt…that took off at least forty minutes of my commute.

I dialed Seth's cell number as my speedometer crept up past 160, slowing only slightly to take the bends of the heavily forested road.

No answer.

I stopped slowing at the bends in the road and instead increased my sped, pine trees blurring past me.

I could make it to the opening of the passage, it would be tight, but I could make it there in almost as much time as it would take Seth and Bella to run the passage.

But would it be enough?

* * *

**A/N:** A bit of a transition chapter and yet I still manage a bit of a cliffhanger. Chapter 10 will see so much more BxE interaction and a game or two of twenty questions. I'm heading on vacation next week, and I hope to get the next chapter up before I go...but it's still rough, so we'll see!

Awesome news! This story has been nominated for two Indie TwiFic Awards! Yes, one of you amazingly sweet people nominated me (thank you, whoever you are!)and I am beyond flattered...what a great feeling. This story is up for Most Original Storyline AND Best Alternate Universe Human. Additionally, my first story, Sleeping to Dream, was also nominated (for Best Alternate Universe Complete--if you haven't read it, go check it out!). Please, if you guys think either of these stories are worthy, I would love to somehow bribe you to head over to **theindietwificawards (dot) com** and vote for 'em! I believe voting starts tomorrow.

In the end though, what would make me happiest is if you just take a second to write me a comment. I love hearing from you guys--makes my day/week/month!


	11. Chapter 10 Pretending

**Bella. Wednesday night/Thursday morning**

**__**

Blind.

I was running blindly, trusting that my senses would take over and steer me safely through the dark tunnels. Behind me, faintly, I could still hear guns shooting and I was relieved—that meant that Seth was still alive and fighting. But I knew he couldn't hold them off forever. I assumed there was more than one of them, judging by the look I nearly missed on Seth's face when he had told me to run; alarm, anxiety and then…panic.

Now, stretching my hands out in front of me, I continued running through the thick darkness, cringing slightly, waiting for a sharp impact with the wall, the ground…something. Every now and then I could tell the passage was curving slightly--my fingers brushed against the earthen walls, scraping my fingertips, and I would carefully re-adjust my path.

When I was finally unable to hear anything behind me, I slowed my pace slightly and turned my head, my ragged panting echoing loudly around the tunnel walls. Was I now out of ear shot? Or had they overpowered Seth on their way after me? Fright won against fatigue and I began running again, attempting to do so as quietly as I could.

I found out what forever felt like as I ran that passage-- breath expanding my lungs, filling them, and then releasing in short gasps of air between my dry lips--the cycle was never ending and I struggled to focus on the even rhythm within instead of the men behind me who wanted me dead. Or perhaps alive. That new thought had me breathing faster, messing up my beat and causing me to stumble. I caught myself, but thoughts of torture methods suddenly flooded my mind, my rhythm completely abandoned. I cursed my overactive imagination and attempted to push images of cut out tongues and pulled fingernails out of my head.

Finally, when forever threatened to undo me, and I was about to lose everything I strove to keep together, a soft, faint light greeted my eyes with a welcoming warmth. I was so close. I stumbled slightly at the sight in front of me and then re-grouped for the mad dash for the finish. With a last burst of energy, I pushed myself closer, closer and then--the opening to freedom was right in front of me. I nearly didn't stop. I nearly ran out into the moonlight that streamed in, wanting to greet it with a shout of joy. But panic hit and I stopped dead. Two feet before me, the moonlight called, and my pounding heart and quick breath demanded to answer--the adrenaline from so much running and fear still pumping purposely through my limbs-- but I refused.

Because at that moment, Seth's words echoed through my head, warning me.

"_Our men are the only ones who know where it is. And even we would be hard-pressed to get in from the outside. The opening is not easy to find."_

His men were also supposed to be the only ones who knew where the safe-house was and yet…it had taken these men 48 hours to find their way here. I shivered and approached the opening more carefully. If they knew where the house was, did that mean they knew were the passage ended? Did they have men positioned outside hiding behind trees, guns drawn, waiting for me?

I rubbed a hand over my face and took another step towards the beckoning moonlight. The opening was not large and I could see vines and vegetation hanging in front of the opening on the other side, most likely shielding it from obvious sight. Tentatively, I pressed myself close to the wall of the mouth and carefully looked out. I couldn't see much--the vines blocked my view--but I appeared to be dead in the middle of a thick forested area. The trees that I _could_ see were so close together; I had a hard time imagining myself running around them. More like, very carefully walking. Slowly.

How far away was this highway?

But Seth had said Edward's name and I felt myself straighten up in a surprised realization. I had been so frightened, so scared for my life that I had purposely not allowed Edward's name into my mind. But now…what had he said?

"_When you get to the woods, hide. Edward is on his way. Edward will find you."_

What else I could do but trust Seth's words—it was all I had to hold onto now. I closed my eyes briefly, let go of the side of the passage and pushed aside the vines, opening my eyes as I poked my head out. As I surveyed quickly, I realized that I was indeed in the middle of a wild, overgrown, thickly treed Washington forest. What I would give for the Arizona desert right now. There was no movement from the trees nearby, so I pushed myself further from the opening and ducked quickly into a tangle of brush. Still no movement, no bullets whizzing past my head, no "I found her!" 's. I crawled a few feet away from the passage towards a clump of tall evergreens and then stopped to assess. I turned to look at where I came from and was amazed at what I saw—or rather, didn't see. Seth was right. From where I was, only feet away, I couldn't even tell where the opening had been in the scattered rocky hills behind me.

I was impressed, and if the whole safe-house location hadn't been sabotaged, I would have been very tempted to write an appreciative letter to whoever had hidden the opening here. Genius.

I turned back to the daunting forest in front of me and hesitated, cocking my head slightly to the side, listening for noise, any noise that could lead me towards the highway. It couldn't be far, Seth had spoken like it would be close. If Edward was going to be coming from the highway looking for me, it would be best to hide close—and the further from the passage and pursuers as possible, the better.

But all I could hear were the sounds of forest at night, so I stood and began to walk carefully, as silently as possible among the littered sticks, leaves and stones.

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep._

_And dangerous_. How could Robert Frost have overlooked that one? I shivered as an owl hooted nearby, causing me to jump and look up. It took off from a tree and as I watched it charge the night sky, the moon shining brilliantly through the tree tops caught my attention. Waxing gibbous I knew, from so many astronomy sessions with Edward—and soon, there would be a full moon. I automatically scanned for my star, but most of the sky was obstructed by trees and there was no time for star-gazing. I continued around tree trunks, aimless but moving, wondering when I should stop and hide. I could so easily be moving further from the road with every step. Uncertainty gnawed at my insides and I stopped again and bit my lip, listening again for noises. Still, nothing.

Frustrated, tired and afraid, I glanced up at a nearby tree and made a decision. It was time to hide. I had never been much of an athlete…okay, I had never been even a little bit of an athlete--even just walking was an extreme sport for me, and if I made it an entire day without tripping, I felt like I deserved a trophy of some sort.

But hiding up in a tree just seemed like the best idea and I knew I had to put on my sportswoman face and climb. I chose a tree with make-shift foot holes and low branches and managed to get up a lot faster than any of my friends would have imagined. Emmett would have been proud. I settled my back against the thick trunk and hugged my knees close to my chest. I had climbed up far enough from the ground that the low hanging branches provided a sort of camouflage from below—I was pretty sure I couldn't be seen unless someone was very specifically looking up for me. Now I would have to really keep alert and wait for Edward. I didn't think there would be a problem there—if I fell asleep, I may very well fall right out of the tree.

I kept my eyes pointed down as I let the croaking frogs, chirping crickets and other random forest noises lull me into a familiar numbness that I welcomed happily. Without the numb, I would have to think about the men after me and about Edward and how I would feel seeing him again when he found me.

If_ he finds you first_ whispered my nasty brain.

I held my knees closer and wondered what I could use as a weapon. Why hadn't I thought of that before I'd climbed the stupid tree? I should have grabbed a rock or a stick or a—

Noise.

I strained to hear it again and then: the gentle rustling of brush and un-mistakable sound of boots walking over forest. I hunched down, scrunching myself smaller and ducking my head, trying to hide my light "here I am!" skin. But I kept my eyes pointed down.

_Please let it be Edward, please._

But no, two voices, neither of them the velvety smooth tones of Edward Masen. I squeezed my eyes shut as the footsteps got closer.

"—said we'd come out near the highway. She would head for the highway, not this far south. Let's turn around," spoke one voice, husky and deep. The other voice was more muffled.

"—bit further…we've got Shade up by the highway, watching."

They literally walked right under my tree and I was sure they could hear my heart thumping. I opened my eyes, expecting to see them look up and spot me. They were both wearing head to toe black, with black knit caps on their heads and large guns in their hands. And they kept moving—they didn't look up, they kept moving. I breathed quietly; patting the tree beneath me like it had pulled off some sort of miracle.

Clouds passed across the moon and the numbness began to fade.

"_Edward will find you."_

Edward will find me.

But he wasn't here and I didn't know how long I should wait. And, I realized with a small jolt, the men below me had just given me an unintentional clue. I had gone the wrong way. The highway was back the way I had come, north… I nodded. Do I dare? Waiting in the tree for an Edward that may or may not stumble upon this direction, this path, this tree…just didn't seem certain enough. I would have to get closer. At least I knew, I told myself as I carefully shimmied down the tree, that two were going the opposite way. One, though, was near the highway, waiting. Well, at least I could grab a weapon. Back on solid ground I eyed my nearest selection of rocks and settled on a jagged rock that fit snugly in my palm. As I looked down at it, I realized that it reminded me of the stupid arrowhead Alice had brought home—only days ago—the thing covered in someone else's blood. Ugh. I shook away the memory and gripped the rock harder, moving back the way I had come…hopefully, now toward the highway.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes and finally I heard a noise; the faint sound of a car, and my heart lifted.

Edward! Please, oh god, please let that be Edward.

I started to run before I realized I had stopped being cautious and before I could even react, a figure suddenly came at me from my left side, crashed into me painfully and I was suddenly on the unforgiving hard surface of the forest floor, pinned under a slab of pure granite, gasping for breath and blindly lashing out with my pathetic rock. One swing, two swings, and finally on the third swing, I connected with something hard.

The attacker cursed softly but didn't roll away and when a hand found my flailing wrist and skin touched skin, the rock fell from my grip and I gasped at the sudden spark that shocked my flesh into sudden hyper-awareness.

"Shit, Bella, you have one hell of a right rock-hook," said a voice filled with relief, amusement, pain and quiet tension. And when I peered up, those green eyes looked back, a drop of blood trickling freely down towards his eyelid but he didn't blink and something in that instant was so tragic and hilarious and painful that I couldn't keep any of it in anymore and I burst out laughing and sobbing at the same time.

"Bella? Bella, are you hurt, did they hurt you?" his eyes, those eyes that belonged to the forest and my heart, never left my face and I knew this, because despite the crying and despite the laughing I didn't close my eyes once because I couldn't let the green disappear, not again. But I could not speak through my gasps so I nodded and he finally put a soft finger to my lips. Green on brown, finger on lips, we gazed deeply for only a moment before he looked away and then rolled off me. My body screamed at the sudden emptiness.

"He's close. One of them is close and we need to get--" he trailed off and looked over his shoulder, cocking his head slightly and I silenced myself immediately, knowing the need for the tackle was important, not playful. I nodded once, quickly, wordlessly, and allowed Edward to pull me to my feet. As I brushed myself off with one hand, I realized my other hand was still locked in Edward's and the tingling was not from the forgotten jagged rock, but from the warm skin folded around my own. Edward must have realized this too, and for a long moment we stood in the moonlight, crickets chirping loudly around us, holding hands, not looking at each other, but connecting. His hand was dry and warm and strong and everything I remembered and loved. And then, a sound from nearby and his hand slipped from my own and the world came rushing back and we were running.

And I was tripping and falling and getting up and running more and Edward urged me forward and I followed and finally we were at a silver car. A car in the middle of bushes and I realized, as the passengers door was thrust open and my body shoved in, that Edward had hidden it and I couldn't help but wonder if this was a day in the life of Edwar—of Decoy.

He peeled out from the brush and, the engine roaring with the power it was built to utilize, darted out past a gathering of trees and onto a paved two-lane road.

The highway, I realized, panting and pushing back the sweat that glistened on my forehead. Edward shifted gears quickly and before I could even catch my breath, he had thrown the wheel to the left spinning the car around so fast in a U-turn that I was thrown against his hard shoulder and then against the passengers' door. My cut-up arm screamed in protest but I ignored the pain, glancing back behind us, searching.

"Seatbelt, Isabella. And hold on," ordered Edward, his forehead creased in concentration. I grabbed at my seatbelt, pulling it hard across my lap to lock it together, barely noticing the blood that stained the sides of the belt.

As we sped past the place we had just exited, a man dressed all in black came sprinting out after us, a gun drawn.

"Get down!" ordered Edward sharply, his hand already reaching for me, but I was scared out of my mind and complied quickly, ducking down just as a something hit the back of Edward's car.

"Fuck," he muttered, and shifted gears again. I wondered vaguely if he carried around puke-bags for times like these, but didn't dare distract him from our get-away. We must have rounded a curve, as my body was thrown to the right, and I took the chance to look up at Edward. Some tension was gone, but he was focused completely on the road, driving like a bat out of hell.

"Is it safe?" I asked quickly, eyeing another splotch of blood at glove compartment level. What the hell went on in this vehicle?

"Never," he replied, not looking up from the road. "But you can get up. They didn't think far enough ahead. No vehicle nearby. Probably up near the safe-house," he smirked, talking more to himself than to me and I..wait.

"Seth!" I remembered. How could I have forgotten? "We have to go back and get Seth. He told me to take the passage. He's back at the safe-house, probably hurt and--"

"We're not going back," replied Edward, his jaw clenched tightly. I stared at him, dumbfounded.

"But he's--"

"Probably dead," replied Edward matter-of-fact. "And you're not." My blood ran cold at the way Edward dismissed the situation. So cold, so unfeeling.

He's a killer.

I sat back, the shock on my face frozen.

"He saved my life," I said softly after a moment, staring straight ahead. I felt Edward's eyes on me, but I couldn't look up.

"That was his job," he paused and I could still feel his eyes examining me. "I called Jonze on my way here. He's got men coming. Our medic is with them. If there is a chance Seth's alive, our medic will do everything he can." His voice was lower now, some of the coldness washed out. I remained silent, thinking of Seth and his smile and the way he protected me so selflessly.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked tiredly, gripping the edges of the seat tightly.

"My apartment," he replied without hesitation.

"Your..?" I trailed off uncomprehendingly. But of course Edward would have an apartment, I shouldn't be surprised. He's lived in Seattle for the past few years. He has a whole life here. And yet somehow, the comment still surprised me.

"I need to get some…things," he finished off vaguely.

"Is it safe there?" I hoped it was, because suddenly, almost more than anything, I wanted to see where this man, this Decoy, lived. I wanted to see who Edward Masen had become, how this cold monster had taken the man I used to love.

"No," he replied tonelessly. "But nowhere is safe, Bella. You witnessed that tonight."

I nodded and then turned my head away, staring out into the darkness.

**

**Edward. Thursday morning.**

Her quietness scared me more than her questions and I didn't know what to do. We were back in the city now, light just barely touching the horizon, and as I weaved my way to my apartment, I found myself suddenly consumed with her opinion of my dwellings. Bella's life was in danger, my life and job were in danger of unraveling completely, and yet I found myself wondering if I had thrown my dirty briefs in the laundry, washed last week's dishes, and stuck a new roll of toilet paper on the dispenser in the bathroom.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

And yet, I needed my own weapons and ammo. I knew Jonze wouldn't be as kind with lending me anything from his operation, not now, anyways, and on top of that, he would not like my plan. Or, the half-plan that was slowly forming in my head.

I parked in my slot in the underground parking lot, marveling internally at how it was only a few days ago that I carried a bloody Bella up to my apartment, unconscious and unaware. Now, she walked beside me of her own volition, wordless, her eyes wide—completely oblivious that she'd been here before. We didn't talk in the elevator up and I didn't say a word a moment later as I cautiously unlocked my door, gun stretched out in front of me, moving to step inside. I motioned for her to wait while I made sure nothing or no one was waiting for us and then nodded, still silent, for her to enter.

I wished so badly I could see inside her mind, or at the very least, read her expression. I wanted to know what she was thinking, feeling. I wanted to know what she thought of me—if she could see me as the man I used to be…or if I was a monster to her now, a killer, a cold stranger she could no longer knew. Were there remnants of Edward Masen inside me? I wasn't sure I knew anymore. Instead, I could only watch helplessly as her eyes took in item after item. The kitchen (clean, thank god), the couch and TV, the bed in the corner, the door leading to the bathroom and finally, to the baby grand in the opposite corner. Her face didn't give off an ounce of emotion until she took in the piano and then she cracked slightly, her mouth turning down.

"Do you still play?" she asked, nodding at the piano as though I hadn't been studying her every move.

"No," I answered automatically. And then, because I didn't want to lie to her, I amended, "Sometimes."

She looked at my strangely for a moment and then turned away, walking over to examine my massive CD collection.

I had to regain my focus, but as I watched her I knew it would be hard. I wanted to say all the right words, all the words that would make everything better, make us better, make like the past five years had never happened. But I knew wishing was futile so instead I went to my bed, flipped up the comforter and pulled out the large trunk I kept tucked away under the frame.

I grabbed a messenger bag and began picking out the guns and ammo I wanted with me. I hadn't been able to stay and kill those fuckers tonight, not unless I'd been willing to risk Bella's safety. But they would pay for everything they'd done; for every ounce of pain they had caused Bella. Seth. Embry. My cell phone had been surprisingly quiet in the last couple hours and I knew I needed to check out what Jonze found at the safe-house.

Who he'd found. And who was still alive.

"May I use your bathroom?" she asked quietly from behind me, and as I turned to look at her, I noticed her eyes were focused on the bloody towel next to the pillow on my bed.

_Monster. She can only see the monster._

"Of course. Right there," I nodded with my head to the door beside her, ignoring the red tinged towel, wondering what other bloody items I had left in the bathroom. Her blood, though she wouldn't remember it and I wasn't ready to explain it.

She disappeared, shutting the doorway firmly behind, and I listened a moment as the tap ran before turning to my weapon stash and throwing in a few knives.

**

**Bella. Thursday morning.**

The water splashed cold on my face and I welcomed the sudden chill that ran across my body. I kept the water running as I turned to survey the small bathroom. It was clean and bright but it was the shower curtain that caught my attention. It was covered in bright cartoon fish and for a second, I cracked a smile, thinking of Edward showering with these silly fish was comical…that is, until I really started picturing it. And then my face grew warm and I dipped back for more cold water.

The medicine cabinet was ajar and, as I dried off my face, I took that as an invitation to snoop. Pulling it open the rest of the way, I let my eyes wander over the many pill bottles, carefully reading names without touching a thing. I knew many of the names from experience--different pills usually prescribed for depression, sleeping or anxiety. Others, I did not recognize and wondered at the colorful capsules. The labels mainly read "Decoy", the name of the drug, and a quick listing of instructions. The name of the doctor lacked, but obviously, he had to get them from Jonze. Without thinking, I grabbed a specific bottle and pocketed it quickly then shut off the water, took a breath, and walked back out to the loft room. Edward had just zipped shut a bag he'd stuffed full of guns and god knows what else and was straightening up as I stepped out.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes on my face. I looked away.

"Almost as good as a shower," I replied, perching carefully on a nearby recliner.

"Oh…ah, I'm sorry. Go ahead and…it's no…we have time, if you want to have one," he finished quickly, taking his eyes from my face and studying the bag in front of him.

I hesitated. Did I want one? Hell yes, I did. I could not have smelled pleasant…I had gone three days without a shower after living my own version of a Jason Bourne movie. Sweat, blood, tears, dirt. Ugh.

"Are you sure?" I asked, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"Absolutely." He seemed to have re-gained his composure as he opened a small drawer near his bed. "Clean towel, soap and shampoo in the bathtub."

I nodded, getting up to accept the outstretched towel. Without my permission, my eyes found his and we both froze mid-towel exchange, our eyes locking and loaded with so many un-spoken words and emotion.

"Bella," he broke the charged silence, his voice breaking over my name, but I wasn't ready and I couldn't do it, not yet.

I wasn't ready for the answers I feared so desperately. I wanted to keep pretending.

"You should try and grab a couple minutes of sleep," I commented, "You look tired." I raised myself up to my tip-toes and carefully touched his left temple, examining the damage. The blood was dry now, but it looked nasty. "I'm sorry," I murmured softly. And then, feeling that crackling electricity that jumped between our bodies, I pulled away quickly. Edward stared at me, bringing his hand up to touch the place I had just been touching.

"Hell of a right rock-hook," he said, without a smile, repeating his line from earlier. I smiled, attempting to lighten the atmosphere and gestured to my arms.

"Bandage?"

He smiled then, and my heart sped up, but I took the towel in both hands and turned to the bathroom, shutting the door securely behind me, leaning against the other side to allow my breathing to slow back down.

I took off my clothes slowly, carefully avoiding the bandages and then, naked except for the chain and ring around my neck, I slowly unraveled the gauze and tape from my cuts. It was worse than I had anticipated, I realized as I studied myself in the mirror. Both long and short gashes crisscrossed my arms, some stitched together, and I shuttered slightly, my empty stomach lurching at the sight. I was never one for dealing with blood, not even my own. I averted my eyes and turned on the water, pushing the faucet to hot. When the steam began to rise, I pulled the cartoon fish to the side and stepped in trying to steer my mind away from the fact that Edward spent at least five minutes every day naked in this very spot. I turned the faucet back to cold, shocking my system into thinking about something else. I avoided getting my arms wet the best I could, but it wasn't easy, and every time the water hit a wound, I winced slightly. I examined the shampoo bottle next to the bar of Ivory soap and smiled. Dead or alive, Edward Masen apparently was not going to deviate away from his brand of shampoo…he'd used the same naturally scented, slightly musky scented shampoo when we were 16, and here he was using it still. Tried and true, I supposed. I shampooed my hair carefully, cleaning out the dirt and blood, avoiding the gash at my hairline. I rinsed quickly, the cool water feeling good on my slightly heated body and then grabbed the soap and rubbed it gently onto my fingers, which I then rubbed across my cuts and bruises. It stung at first and I let out gasp of surprise.

There was a quick tap on the door.

"Bella? Are you okay?" I jumped at the sound of his muffled voice, so close and yet still such a thick barrier away. And I wasn't talking just about the bathroom door.

"I'm okay. Just…tender," I answered quickly, biting away the smile that threatened to leak into my voice.

Silence from behind the door and then:

"Do you need…anything?"

I froze, my naked body goose-bumping at all the words it screamed for permission to convey.

"I'm good. Thanks," I finally managed to sputter. "Really, you should sleep. I may be awhile," I added, knowing he needed sleep more than I had needed a shower. That was saying something.

There was no response and after a moment, I continued to gently soap my wounds.

I wasn't sure how long I actually spent in the bathroom, drying off and then attempting to re-bandage my wounds, but I finally gave up, resigned to ask Edward if he could help me. Dressed again in my clothes, I opened the bathroom door, expecting Edward to be waiting, or pacing or frowning, but instead I was greeted by a sight that broke off a chunk of the barrier.

He had obviously been fighting sleep hard, as he was not on the bed, but in the black leather recliner-- not reclined. He had placed the duffle bag beside him on the carpet, and a gun on the coffee table next to the chair. His hand twitched quietly beside the gun, as though prepared to grab it at a second's notice, even while completely asleep. As I walked closer to see his face, I noticed that his head had fallen back against the recliner pillow, but was tilted towards the bathroom door. His breathing was even and calm but his eyelids were alive with dreams. They twitched back and forth, up and down…and I wished so hard at that moment that I could see inside his head, see what he dreamed of when the mask was off.

His face--it hurt my heart to see him look so vulnerable, so young…so much like the boy I had fallen in love with, the boy I had thought to be dead. I ached to reach out and touch him, to selfishly allow myself memories of him and me and happiness. But I stopped myself. He was so peaceful, so serene…and he needed the sleep. So I let him have it.

I wanted to worry about the time and the people after me, after us, but I pushed it aside for the moment and wandered Edwards's loft, not touching anything, but taking it all in. It wasn't that the place was devoid of personality, no, it held his music, his movies, and his piano…it told me that Decoy couldn't have been too far removed from Edward. But it lacked warmth and color. It lacked a feeling of happiness. I noticed the lack of photos, framed or otherwise. There was no sign of friends in his life or of family. It struck me as a humble, lonely place to live and sadness suddenly washed over me, as I glanced back at the peaceful boy I had thought I had known so long ago.

He exists. He walks through this world and breathes and eats and sleeps. But who is he now? What does he live for? Why does he continue this life_?_

I approached his piano, amazed by the mountain of sheet music that stood piled on top of the shiny black baby grand. I sat down at the bench, my eyes sweeping his most recent song. In his neat hand-writing, printed across the top page, was one word that punched me painfully in the stomach.

Détruit. Broken. I closed my eyes reliving the memory of the day I explained to him what the French word meant.

I suddenly felt as though I had violated his privacy--I had poked my head into a life I wasn't supposed to know about, into a lonely life full of sadness and pain.

And yet--was it so much unlike my own?

I wanted to hear that song. I wanted to know how it ended.

I approached Edward again, slipping quietly onto the couch next to the recliner and rested my head on the arm of the couch, tilting my head up to keep watching him.

Was he happy when he was dreaming? Did he find himself in a simpler time, a simpler world where he wasn't killing? Did he dream of his parents?

I wanted to know this Edward…I wanted to know Decoy. And as my eyes closed and my head rolled back, a ghost of a smile turned my lips up and I felt complete next to the vulnerable boy who dreamed.

* * *

**A/N:** A slightly more peaceful end to a chapter while I go away on vacation:) Next chapter will see anger though. Lots of it. Prepare yourselves.

Thank you to all who have voted for Détruit in the Indies and to all who are about to vote for it right after they read this (wink wink, nudge, nudge)! So excited, so flattered and hoping like hell it makes it to the next round. Unfortunately, even if it does, I won't be around for the next round of voting, so I'm campaigning right now—vote for Détruit and all your wildest dreams will come true;) www (dot) theindietwificawards (dot) com.

Also, a huge thanks to all you guys who have been talking about the story and rec'ing it—and special big thanks to michellephants and nounbeast who actually started a thread over on twilighted (dot) net on the AU-Human and have been pimping my story like crazy. You ladies rock!

Hummm. Go over and tell me what about this particular Assassinward makes you happy! Thread is here: www (dot) twilighted (dot) ?f=44&t=5176. Come play! Or just tell me in a review... You guys are awesome, keep up the great reviews and I'll see you when I get back in a couple weeks with a new chapter:)


	12. Chapter 11 Raw

Chapter Eleven--Raw

* * *

**Edward. Thursday morning.**

**

_No._

My eyes flew open and my fingers griped the gun tightly, swinging it up and level with the front door in one fluid motion, index finger just barely caressing the trigger.

But as the sleep induced haze worked itself from my eyes, I saw the door was closed tightly, the bolt in place, everything as it should be. I swung my eyes around my small loft and slowly relaxed my grip on the gun, allowing it to fall back on the table beside me. What a messed up dream that had been. I shuddered, pushing fading memories of the blood and screaming far away. My gaze found Bella asleep on the couch and as I put a hand on my neck to massage my tense muscles, I felt my face soften as I watched her breathe evenly in deep slumber.

I had obviously fallen asleep on my recliner. Damn. For countless days and nights I had fought so hard against sleep, though I had known it would eventually be a battle that I would lose miserably. But with Bella present in my apartment I had been adamant that now would not be the time to admit defeat, and instead found myself practically holding my eyelids open, nervously waiting for her to come out from my bathroom. Unfortunately, I never had a chance.

Damn you, La-Z-Boy, you and your ergonomically correct contours. Damn you.

I had had things to tell her. Things she would both want to hear, as well as things she wouldn't—but had to regardless. Time was now a critical factor and I couldn't avoid the talk any longer. Not when she was about to find out very soon, anyway.

I stood and stretched my muscles, my eyes never leaving her peaceful face--all worry, pain and sadness erased from her features as she simply slept. She would never stop captivating me; beauty simply poured with an ease most would envy from every square inch of her small frame and I ached to touch her face, to run my fingertips along her arms, down the sides of her body and across her stomach. I wanted to brush away that stray piece of hair that had fallen across her angelic face. I wanted to kiss her lips softly, slowly. And then I wanted to kiss her with every passion she ignited within my mind and body, something I had never allowed myself to do. I did not want to hold back with Bella ever again.

I groaned softly, running a hand across my face, stopping to lightly touch the scabbed wound from Bella's rock attack. Bella's attack—I had to chuckle soundlessly at the memory of her flailing hands, of the rock that eventually made contact with my temple.

She was brave, I'd give her that. But then, she always had been. I swallowed back the memories quickly, instead noticing the odd tilt of her neck, bent in a way that had her uncomfortably facing the La-Z-Boy. I found a smile, wondering if she'd been watching me sleep.

I suddenly felt immensely self-conscious and glanced around the apartment again. She had been awake and free to wander my humble dwellings and I wondered what she had made of my lackluster abode. Had she been disgusted by what she saw? Had it confirmed something she had already felt toward this version of me?

I shook the thoughts from my head, realizing it didn't matter because today was going to be the day she would find out everything anyways. If, by some remote miracle, she didn't already feel disgusted, she would very soon. I stood watching her face for another minute, enjoying the peacefulness of her dreams and the ignorance of what was to come. If only I could protect her from it all, take her away, hide her and keep her safe until the danger had passed.

_That's exactly what you attempted to do for the past five years. Look how well that turned out_.

Not only that, but I was beginning to really wonder if I was protecting her from all the wrong people. Maybe it was from me she needed protecting--I seemed to be hurting her more than anything.

I took a breath and removed the cell phone from my pocket. With one last long look at Bella's peaceful face, I padded over to the window near the kitchen and managed to quietly coax it open without its usual groan of disapproval. I ducked my head through the frame and urned my body, pulling my legs through and finally placed my bare feet firmly onto the small space of the fire escape ledge. It was certainly no balcony, but it would do. I wanted Bella to sleep as long as she could. I had no idea when she would next get the chance and we obviously weren't in any immediate danger, or that apartment door would have flown open hours ago.

I punched into my voicemail box and surveyed the street carefully, looking for things that didn't belong. Nothing out of the ordinary…no strange vehicles parked on the street, no random sketchy people walking by. No binoculared strangers in the windows of the building across the street, and no snipers on the rooftop.

I impatiently bypassed the irrelevant messages but focused when Jonze's deep voice alerted me to the third message.

"You need to start fucking answering this thing, Decoy. That's why you have it. Where are you, where did you take the girl? Fucking call me."

He was obviously extremely pissed off with me; purposely not giving me the information he knew I would want, annoyed that I hadn't answered his call.

The next call was from Jasper.

"E. What went down? Shit man, your boys have involved my boys. What the fuck is happening over there? FBI has just listed you as MIA. Call me dude, as soon as you possibly can."

I let out a breath only to take in another, longer inhale.

Shit. I couldn't actually remember the last time The Boss had decided to involve the FBI. Our operation was generally kept very, very far removed from FBI business, as the repercussions of what we knew and what we did where far too serious for the FBI to deal with. They were supposed to put on the good guy face. If anything we did, anything the operation did was ever leaked to the public, the FBI was always supposed to be able to wash their hands clean of us. They were innocent and would always look that way, despite the fact that the government knew what we did, supported what we did and financially backed what we did. Unfortunately, no one could ever know that.

But they were listing me as missing in action? Was that Jonze's idea of getting back at me? Did they suspect me of something? A call-out for an MIA is generally serious, though perhaps not as malicious as I was automatically concluding. Every agent, every police officer, security officer…hell, every fucking mall cop, would be receiving my picture and a number to call if they spotted me. This shit was serious and was making less and less sense to me.

I continued to process his message as the next voice started to speak. I had to strain to hear the words, the voice was so quiet, barely a whisper. I pressed my ear closer to the phone, turning my back to the street to glance in the window at Bella. She was exactly as I had left her. I cranked up the volume on my phone and pressed 4 to replay the message, narrowing my eyes in concentration.

"Decoy, its Seth. I'm somehow still alive, though feeling pretty fucking rough. Not supposed to be on the phone, but I need to talk to you. Can you get into the hospital without anyone seeing you? It's important no one sees you, not even Jonze. I'm at Harborview Medical, room 316. Wait until late tonight, less people around. One security guy at the door. 'Till then, lay low. Don't call me—don't call anyone. I'll explain in person. Bring Bella, if she's still…I heard she made it. If she's with you, bring her."

I had to listen to the message again. And then again, just to make sure I wasn't losing it. Seth was alive. Against everything that I had prepared myself for, had attempted to prepare Bella for, Seth was alive. I only allowed myself a moment of relief in that knowledge before moving on to the more immediately important information.

Seth obviously had learned something. He knew something vital and needed to relay to me what it was…but it couldn't be over the phone and he had been very explicit about me not calling anyone (not even Jonze?) or letting anyone see me. Did that mean Seth suspected someone on the inside of having a connection to the people trying to hunt/hurt/kill Bella? Or did those men from last night send along a message through Seth? Or was there something else going on entirely?

What the _hell?_

I ran my hand through my hair distractedly and wrestled with the idea of calling Jasper. He would know more from the inside. And I could trust him, if nothing else, I knew that. What I didn't know was if I could trust any form of communication that wasn't face-to-face. I also didn't know one-hundred percent that I could trust Seth. Could it be a set-up? Seth was the most reliable, faithful man I knew. But maybe they had got to him, threatened someone he loved.

And yet, I knew I had to go.

The puzzle was slowly showing its pieces, but I wasn't sure yet how they fit together. I was listed to the FBI as MIA…someone wanted me found very quickly…but why?

Shit.

I needed a new plan, one that included but was not limited to the following: somehow getting to Harborview Medical, Bella in tow, and breaking into Seth's hospital room. Without getting killed or caught. Without getting Bella killed or caught. I would have to put off the conversation with Bella (she would never, ever come with me after _that_ fight) and I found myself feeling, above every other crazy emotion, slightly relieved.

_Fucking chicken_, I chided myself, not for the first time in recent days. But the thought of 24 more hours with her—with a Bella that, though she may not see Edward Masen anymore, would not despise me. She might even laugh with me. I wanted so badly to hear her laugh. To hear her laugh with me.

I slid through the window, closing it tightly behind me and ran a hand across my face in sudden indecision. I glanced at my watch—12:45pm. I had a bag full of weapons, two faces to hide, a girl to protect and time to kill. Where do I go from here? Wherever it was, it had to be fast. If I was currently listed as MIA, it wouldn't be long before someone came by. In fact, I was surprised no one had come by. But it was only a matter of time.

I wanted to call Jonze, he would know what was going on. But in the end, he would probably order me in to headquarters and I couldn't be there right now. Not when I knew they would take Bella away from me and put her somewhere else. I shook slightly at the thought, knowing very well what could happen to her. She could get lost in an unforgiving "protection" system; I'd seen it happen before and I couldn't allow that to happen to Bella—whether it was for her "safety" or not. She would lose herself, her identity, forever. No, I would listen to Seth. And until then, we would lay low.

As I packed up my messenger bag with the most important information on Gleason and the few sacred documents of my own I'd been keeping locked up in my apartment safe, I had an epiphany.

We had to lay low and I knew just the place.

**

**Bella. Thursday afternoon.**

"We're going _where_?" I demanded, a look of pure horror twisting my features.

"Laser Quest," replied Edward patiently, pronouncing each word carefully and then rolling his eyes at me. Like_ I_ was the crazy one. I yanked my hair quickly into a ponytail and stood up from Edward's leather couch.

"Why-wha-my life is in danger, people were shooting at us last night, Seth is _dead_…and you want to go shoot at each other with plastic laser guns?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I squinted my eyes and examined Edward carefully. Maybe he'd been abducted while I slept? Maybe those people had found him and replaced him with a robot version of himself, programmed to lead me to them? I tried to peek around his broad chest, looking for—for what exactly? Flashing lights? A battery pack? I sighed and folded my arms, looking back at Edward's face expectantly.

"First of all—the guns aren't plastic," he even had the audacity to look indignant. "Secondly, Seth isn't dead. He left me a voice mail. Sounds like he's not in great condition, but he's alive and holed up in a hospital," he stopped as a grin broke out on my face and I flung myself at that broad, totally un-robotic chest, grabbing Edward in a huge hug and dancing us around on the spot in my own version of a happy dance (uncoordinated and awkward), surprising both of us by my impulsive action. I was jolted by tiny bolts of electricity at every point our bare skin touched and I quickly stepped back self-consciously, tripping slightly as I did so, wrapping my arms around my body. But my grin did not dim even a watt.

"Sorry…I'm just so—that's _really_ great news," I said, my face starting to hurt from the smile. Had it really been that long since I'd smiled? But it didn't matter--I had been convinced they (whoever _they_ were) would not have left him alive. At that thought, my smile finally vanished.

"But how? I mean…how did he survive?"

"You know as much as I do, Bella. He's alive. And he wants us to meet him tonight at the hospital."

"Can't we go now? We'd be safer in the daylight!" I insisted. "Wait…Seth's alive and in the hospital and you want to go play laser tag! There is something sinisterly wrong with this picture. What's going on?"

Edward hesitated, probably wondering how much he should tell me.

"Just," I paused, pushing the frustration aside and starting again, "Just be honest with me, Edward," I advised softly. Edward stiffened slightly and shifted his eyes away from me, focusing instead on the nearby duffle bag of guns.

"We need to stay somewhere safe, Bella, and this apartment is not safe. We've got to go, I'll explain as we walk."

I shot him a loaded look, but followed as he grabbed his duffle bag of goodies and another bag, messenger style, and headed to the door. He opened the door for me and as I stepped through I noticed him taking one last look at his apartment, his gaze lingering on the baby grand. I felt my heart lurch at the sight, but turned away and stepped to the elevator stabbing at the button quickly, my back to Edward. I wanted so badly to know what he was thinking.

Once in the elevator, Edward continued explaining, his eyes back on me.

"Seth has information. But he said to lay low and not let anyone see us. Especially not the law; not Jonze, not Jas—not the FBI—nobody. I think he has intel regarding a mole."

"A mole?" I felt stupid, but the only thing I could picture was the ugly little mammal and I was fairly certain he was not referring to an animal. At least, not in the traditional sense of the word.

"A traitor. Someone who works within my operation or with the FBI has perhaps passed on information to the people after you. Or maybe Seth identified one of the men, or he could have a message from the whoever is after you. I don't know, Bella. I only know what he whispered over the phone. But he said to wait until late; there would be less security to identify us. And they are looking for us, Bella. They've put out word to keep careful watch for me."

I took a moment to let the new turn of events sink into my mind, leaning heavily against the elevator as I did so.

"Okay," I nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, staring at me like I was crazy.

"So we play hide and seek for awhile, until we can sneak in to see Seth. But seriously, laser tag? Do you not remember how I trip over my own feet?" I had to make light of the situation, because if I didn't, I may very well fall apart.

Edward chuckled at that, silent for a minute, probably replaying one of my many embarrassing high school incidents. He chuckled again.

"Yes, I remember. But it's perfect for what we need. No one would ever think to look there, for one. Also, it's dark and we wear safety gear. On the off-chance that some security guard is around, our faces will be mostly covered."

"So, we run around Laser Quest for…what? Ten or so hours?"

"There's a place to eat, too. And a movie theatre next door," he shrugged like ten hours of laser tag was normal.

I sighed as the elevator doors dinged open and shot him another look as we stepped out into the parking garage.

"Fine, but you're paying my hospital bills when I break my ankle. And I want a room next to Seth's. Ocean view would be preferable," I said, only half joking, leading the way to his Volvo.

"Bella? Where are you going?" he questioned, unlocking a car that was definitely not the silver Volvo.

"To the Blood Mobile," I replied, exasperated, giving a pointed look at the Volvo. "What is that?" I asked as he opened the passenger door and waited. It was, in fact, a Porsche Carrera and I could only identify it because Emmett's girlfriend Rosalie was an incredible car enthusiast and this just happened to be her unattainable dream car. I'd seen the price tag. Unattainable.

But I wanted to know what Edward would call it.

"A car?"

I rolled my eyes and refrained from sticking my tongue out at him.

"Okay, fine. But whose car?"

"Uh, Steve Compton's," he replied, sweeping a hand towards the leather passenger seat inside.

"And you don't think this…Steve Compton would mind you 'borrowing' his fancy wheels?" I demanded, refusing to enter the car. I crossed my arms, realizing how silly I was being. So I could handle a killer, but I drew the line at grand theft auto?

"Not one bit, I promise."

"He lives here?" I asked my resolve breaking as I glanced towards the elevator. If anyone saw us…

"Apartment 415," responded Edward, getting impatient, his eyes scanning the garage.

"You're stealing a friend's car?" I blurted, sounding more judgmental than I liked, but sliding onto the softness of the black leather seat. Why did I suddenly care?

"It's mine, Bella. I'm Steve Compton. And Billy Houston. And Samuel Jenkins. And…" he revved up the engine and we took off out the garage exit, leaving the shiny Volvo behind.

I put up a hand to stop him, my mouth gaping open.

"You're…you have aliases?" I asked, thinking of Sydney Bristow and how things went for her. Not always great.

"I have to Bella. Or I probably wouldn't survive."

"So…who really lives in apartment 415?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know.

"Steve Compton, officially. Unofficially, not much else than a bunch of my old boxes. Steve is mainly out of town, you see. International businessman," I turned my head to see Edward grinning, as though amused by a private joke.

I rolled my eyes again.

"Your boss doesn't know about your aliases? If there is a mole, they won't know to track this…car," I looked at the posh interior doubtfully, not sure that I could even call it a car. More like a private jet on wheels. At least there weren't any blood stains. I glanced around. At least, none that I could see.

"Nope. Well, they may. But only if they really have been digging into me these last couple years, following me. I would hazard a guess and say I have never been important enough for them to do that. I've always been a model employee." I cringed at the thought of his picture going up on the office wall under 'Employee of the Month!' "But we're going to ditch this car for Billy's before we get to Laser Quest and then grab Samuel's on the way to the hospital. Luckily, they are both also out of town, so I don't think they'll mind. We should be covered."

I felt a little sick to my stomach as I pondered the need for such a messed up life. I remained quiet, and wondered again who exactly Decoy was and if it was actually possible to even know him. As I watched the unfamiliar scenery pass by, I knew we were far from my bubble.

Edward pulled the Porsche into a seedy back alley that led to an open lot beside a pier. Before we reached the lot, Edward pulled a sharp right turn into a rundown garage and parked his car. I glanced around uncertainly as I pushed open my door, dreading what the next vehicle might look like, but also kind of reluctant to leave the dream world of the Porsche. Rose and I suddenly had one more thing in common.

"Relax, Bella. It's a truck, not unlike the junk heap you drive around town."

I opened my mouth to defend my beloved truck but then suddenly stopped in my tracks halfway to the Ford F-150. Edward, having just manually unlocked both doors, turned to look at me.

"How do you know that?"

"How do I know what?" asked Edward, his eyebrows coming together.

"That I still drive the truck?" my heart beat raced ahead as the questions I'd been ignoring bubbled to the surface.

"I don't—I mean... I just assumed you'd still have it?" he answered, his voice raising up at the end, forming a question. I didn't answer, but I walked the rest of the way to the truck, biting my lip hard and avoiding his eyes as I slid into yet another strange vehicle.

Something was wrong. Something was off…something that cut much deeper than the obvious surface issues. Decoy had more secrets than Edward had had…and soon, I was going to have to start questioning.

Neither of us said a word as he pulled out and turned the truck back towards the city, but my mind was working overtime, attempting to figure out where this had all gone wrong.

**

**Edward. Thursday night.**

Had giving Bella a gun, though loaded only with laser light, been one of my more brilliant ideas? Hell no.

But I'd fucked up and she was onto me, and the out of character aggression that had Bella lasering the hell out of me told all. How much longer could I hold off the conversation? Bella was no fool. It was only a matter of time…increasingly diminishing time.

We were presently en-route to Harborview Medical center and the silence resonating from Bella was almost painful. I wanted so badly to say something, anything, to make it all better. But we both knew there were no magical words—and hell, she still didn't even know exactly what to be mad _about_, other than the obvious.

"Bella--" I hesitated. I had no idea where to go; I merely couldn't stand the silence. No, I generally welcomed silence, reveled in it. I couldn't stand _her_ silence.

"You kill people for a living and you couldn't even beat me at laser tag?" she muttered.

And then, "Whose blood is in that Volvo?" she caught me completely off guard. Startled, I glanced over at her. Her face was turned away from me. She stared out the passenger window.

"Yours, "I answered, after a moment's hesitation. She turned her head towards me, obviously surprised by my answer.

"Mine?" she narrowed her eyes at me, confused.

"After you were run off the road by the mustang," I explained. "I was following you…you were unconscious, so you don't remember, but I took you back to my apartment."

Her mouth opened, as though to say something, but there were no words. Instead, she put a hand to her forehead, where the deep cut resided, rubbing at it slightly.

"I tried to stop the bleeding the best I could," I admitted, "But I couldn't do enough. I had to take you in to headquarters, to Doc; you were in and out of consciousness." _I was scared you were going to die_, I added silently.

Bella straightened herself, still rubbing her head.

"That's how you knew I still drove the truck. You pulled me out of my truck," she said, more to herself.

I hesitated to answer, but at that moment, the hospital came into view and suddenly, a plan was the most important thing and I found my focus shifting.

_Bloody fucking chicken._

"There is an employee entrance around the back, close to the ER admittance. We're going to go in that way and take the employee elevator up to the third floor. Seth's room will be the first door on the right when we get off. There may be a security guard at his door. If there is, you're going to be our distracter. You'll be looking for the nurses' station, which is three hallways over. Use your charm, Bella, and get him to show you the way, that's important. I need to get in that room without being seen. Meet me back in the truck as soon as you can. If there is no guard there, we're golden, at least for the moment. You got all that?"

Bella's face somehow turned an even paler shade of white but she nodded.

"He won't be on the lookout for me?" she said quietly, her arms crossed across her stomach.

"He shouldn't be, no. If he is and he recognizes you, say you've come to see Seth. You don't know where I am—I dropped you at a hotel and took off. The less information, the better. Don't get specific and if he lets you in, don't let Seth tell you whatever it is he needs to tell, not if the guard is present. Get out as fast as you can. I'll be close if anything happens." I had pulled into a back lot by that point and stuck a gun in my belt. I took a key card from the messenger bag and then slung the bag across my chest.

"Ready?" I asked, turning to Bella, attempting to convey my confidence in the plan through my eyes. I'm sure I failed miserably. Bella nodded, but she looked wary.

As we approached the employee entrance, I silently thanked dear dead Mr. Robert Sinclair for allowing me to kill him in his hospital room a few months ago. Well, allow may be too strong a word. Perhaps required was better. I still had the employee card to get in, and knew the hospital layout well.

Bella shook her head as the door beeped open, but didn't ask and we quickly ducked into an elevator going up. We stood silently across from each other, my eyes trained on her face, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.

"I never meant to hurt you, Bella," I said suddenly, inadequately, my voice quiet over the loud hum of the elevator as it climbed to our destination. Bella's eyes were now very much on me as we gazed at each other silently. She took a step towards me, her lips parting as though to say something. And then, suddenly, her lips were on mine, her arms around my neck, and she was kissing me and I was kissing her and my skin tingled and burned at her touch. I didn't dare open my eyes for fear of ending it all and as our tongues met, touched and intertwined, I could feel raw emotion emanating from Bella's touch, from her lips, her tongue. There was ferocity, quiet desperation and a scared little girl seeking something I couldn't name. I responded by pouring every ounce of emotion I felt for her, gently though, afraid of scaring her, afraid that _this_ moment would be the end. My hands had worked their way through her soft locks and came to a rest cupping her face, one hand on each side, my right thumb rubbing gently across her left cheekbone.

There was nothing familiar about this kiss. We had never been this raw with each other, ever. And yet this kiss was not a kiss with barriers, this was the most honest and open kiss we had shared.

This kiss told our story.

Her back now pressed against the smooth metal of the elevator suddenly stiffened as time caught up and announced its presence with a quick swish of opening doors. I didn't step back, but her lips had left mine and she stared up into my face, looking shocked and sorry. But her eyes told another story—a familiar spark had taken up residence and as I slowly released her face from between my hands, I smiled slowly, crookedly.

I smiled Edward Masen's old smile and Bella Swan's old favorite smile.

"What floor?" asked a voice, as two nurses got on and I stepped back, my eyes still on Bella's flushed face.

"Second. You two getting off?" asked the other nurse, eyeing us curiously.

"Yes," I replied quickly. "We are. Thanks." I took Bella's arm and steered her onto the third floor. We were close and as I casually glanced down the hall I breathed a sigh of relief and felt Bella do the same beside me. There was a chair outside of Seth's room, but it was empty. Still holding Bella's arm, we walked quickly to the door. I pushed it open gently with my foot, keeping Bella behind me, my other hand resting lightly on the gun tucked in my belt.

"Seth!" breathed Bella, stepping from my grasp and quickly closing the distance between the door and Seth's hospital bed. I watched as Bella awkwardly reached around the tubes and monitors and carefully took Seth's hand.

I closed my eyes once, briefly, shifting gears, and then walked over next to Bella, a half-smile on my face.

"You should see the other guy," croaked Seth feebly, his eyes barely open due to puffiness and bruising. He looked like hell. He was bandaged and wrapped, bruised and battered. And he had done it all for Bella. He didn't have to; in fact the organization did not encourage its agents to put themselves in no-win situations…and five against one counted as unwinnable.

"Seth, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. You saved my life," whispered Bella quietly, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Seth's eyes opened slightly wider as he took her in. His mouth turned up slightly.

"I thought we were both done, Bella. I was sure they would get to you. I couldn't hold them off for very long…" he trailed off, coughing deeply. "I shot a couple of them, but Jonze tells me there were no bodies on the scene when they found me and not a trace of blood other than my own. These guys are good," he coughed again. "Ugh. Not one of my better days. Decoy," he beckoned, his eyes turning to me.

And then suddenly, as though we were stuck on a horribly timed and completely un-funny sit-com, the door opened and a doctor walked in, papers in hand.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Clearwa--" we had all turned to stare at the man, a different type of dread on each of our faces. But instead of being greeted with shouts and accusations, the doctor simply stopped mid-sentence, his eyes on Bella, his mouth opening. My muscles bunched, ready to take action.

"Bella! What are you doing here? Alice--" he stopped and looked closely at me and then over to Seth.

"Bella?" he repeated her name uncertainly. "Is everything-"

Bella had initially frozen in place, but when the doctor repeated her name, she moved, taking two steps and hugging the doctor quickly.

"Carlisle, hi! Can we step out to talk? My friend really wanted a chance to say hi to Seth after we heard what happened." Bella looked me quickly in the eyes, her cheeks still flushed, sending me an unmistakable message: _hurry the fuck up._

Of course. Carlisle Cullen, Alice's father and a doctor at Harborview. Shit, I was losing my touch. Luckily, he followed Bella from the room and I let out a breath. Bella was right; this would have to be quick.

I turned back to Seth, my eyes mirroring my desperation.

"Decoy, there's a traitor among us, somewhere. I don't know who and I don't know how, but someone betrayed us. The people that shot me, the people that found the safe-house…they were given the information by one or more of our people, they laughed about it, they laughed at our naivety. Decoy, I don't think it's Bella they want. I think they're using her, I think they want to hurt her. Kill her, maybe."

"Why, Seth, why would you think that?" I plead with him, begging him to think. I needed something, I needed help.

"I heard them talking, after they'd shot me and kicked my ass a bit. They thought I was dead; but I was very much alive. And conscious," he laughed with a bitterness I would never have thought I'd hear from Seth Clearwater.

"I don't know what the hell is going on but I think someone wants to use Bella to get to you, Decoy. Someone wants to hurt you and I think they will kill Bella to do it."

I shouldn't have been surprised—I was a fucking hit man. I killed people for a living. There had to be hundreds of people who wanted to see me hurt…or dead. And yet, I still felt as though I'd been punched in the stomach. Because using Bella to hurt me? That was a new piece of the puzzle—someone knew the past relationship between Edward Masen and Bella Swan. Someone knew that I once _was_ Edward Masen. And someone knew that Bella was my one weakness. Clearly this was someone who didn't know me well --by fucking with Bella, they were playing with a very deadly fire.

Because while I didn't much care for myself anymore, Bella remained the most precious part of my existence.

While my head reeled, Seth's eyes closed, worn out for the night. I gave him one last look, memorizing the zigzagging lines of the stitches and the placement of bullet wounds, and then slunk silently to the door, ready to rescue Bella from whatever would greet me on the other side.

But as the door opened and a small body flew at me, fists pummeling, I was about to realize how completely unprepared I really was for what came next.

* * *

**A/N: Wow. So you'd think I'd be nicer to you guys, seeing as many of you have just tuned into this fic and are "meeting" me for the first time—but there I went with a small cliffhanger, anyways. And I'm not even sorry!**

**The past couple weeks have been HUGE for my humble little tale. As most may know, Détruit had not made it through to the second cut of the Indies so imagine my utter surprise when I found out it won a Judges Award for Special Merit! In addition to _that _craze, Détruit also was beautifully recced by Emibella on The Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster, which is a complete honor for me to have my story up there next some of my own favourite stories and authors. What a week. Oh and yes, my vacation was amazing, thank you all for asking. It meant this chapter was longer coming, but I hope the wait was worth it, though I overestimated the amount of anger. That'll be _next_ chapter.**

**And as always, thank everyone for reading, reviewing (my inbox has been flooded, and I LOVE it!) and reccing my story. If I had a sexy Assassinward to give each and every one of you, well, I would unselfishly be handing him out like party favors.**

**Keep up the awesomeness and tell me, whose fists are pummeling the hell out of Edward...and why? Let's hear your guesses!**


	13. Chapter 12 Fists of Fury

About 96.9% of you were right:)

* * *

**Chapter 12** **Fists of Fury**

**Bella Thursday night**

Frozen, I could only watch as Alice lunged at Edward.

Something in me broke away from reality as I watched her fists slamming into Edward's chest, his arms, his stomach. I detached completely as I watched, my face expressionless, as my best friend beat the shit out of my…out of Edward Masen.

"You ass-hole! You fucking…you _left_ her!" she yelled, her small hands connecting and then pulling back to connect again. Edward did not move to defend himself; instead his eyes widened slightly and his arms fell to his side, his shoulders slumping as he looked up from the small wisp of a girl to where I stood, pressed into a corner of the hospital hallway. I had one arm crossed tightly over my body, the other hovering in front of my face, index finger tracing my bottom lip.

I had kissed him.

"What kind of…of _monster_ does that to the woman he…loves!" She socked him hard in the arm, and this time I could hear the resounding impact of flesh against flesh from where I stood.

_Loved_, I corrected Alice silently. I slid slowly down the stark-white wall, my mind fighting to block out everything I'd learned in the last thirty minutes.

"Bella," came his voice, pleading and broken, sounding exactly the way my own heart felt. But no, that wasn't fair. He couldn't feel that way; he wasn't allowed to claim that pain.

He had let me kiss him, knowing. Knowing and not saying a word. That pain was rightfully mine.

"Don't you talk to her! You don't get to talk to her!" I couldn't see Alice's face, but I could hear in her voice that she was crying now. Her fists had slowed, and as I watched through glassy eyes, Carlisle Cullen appeared behind her, gently grasping his daughter around the waist and pulling her back.

"Alice," he murmured softly. "Alice, calm."

His words seemed to have that exact effect on her, and she dropped her hands to her side.

"You…you…you broke her. You left her broken. You could have fixed her, but you didn't," her voice was soft, shaking, and filled with a quiet anger. Edward's eyes remained glued to me, but he flinched visibly and I couldn't help but note, even in my detached state, that Alice's words appeared do what her fists could not: they caused him pain. Made him hurt.

Alice pulled away from her father's grasp and turned to me.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry," she found me and enveloped me in her arms, her tiny frame wrapping itself around me, but I couldn't hug her back. Frozen, I could only stare at Edward over her shoulder, my glassy eyes searching for comprehension, while my mind played back all that I had just learned.

**

Thirty minutes changed everything.

I was busy basking in my success of luring Carlisle out from Seth's room, when something the good doctor was saying jerked me back in tune with the conversation.

"Alice is here?" I repeated, dropping every pretense of remaining calm and collected.

Carlisle nodded, his face concerned.

"She's just in for observation. She'll be fine, Bella. She's been having more of her…dreams, and they've been taking a toll on her. She's exhausted, dehydrated and just feeling a little…she just needed a break." I glanced at Carlisle sharply, wondering why a break couldn't mean a weekend in his and Esme's gigantic country home.

"She's…Bella, help me understand what has happened. She's so worried about you and I have no idea why. You're here," he shook his head, obviously in the dark regarding recent events.

"Where is she?" I asked quietly. Carlisle nodded and turned. I followed quickly, giving Seth's door one last glance. At least Edward would have plenty of time to get all the information he needed.

Her room wasn't far. Carlisle opened the door quietly, poking his head in and then glancing back at me.

"Go on in. I've got to make my rounds, but I'll be back soon."

I was nervous. I had no idea what to tell Alice. I had no idea what Edward's people had told Alice. Obviously, our stories were not going to corroborate. And yet, it didn't matter--my concern for Alice far outshone my lack of a solid story. I stole a last breath and pushed open her door. The room was dark, and Alice lay still on the hospital bed in the corner. She had stuffed in her ears a pair of ear buds, and her eyes were open, though trained unblinkingly on the ceiling. She was hooked up to a huge beeping machine attached to the head by a couple of electrodes. I recognized the machine immediately from knowing Alice for as long as I had—it was measuring her brain waves. I glared at the machine, my heart thumping. Carlisle had failed to mention they were testing her brain again--what had happened to Alice these past…how many days? I had last seen her on Friday before her date with Jasper. What could have happened in a week?

So much, whispered my mind. So very much.

I walked quickly to her bed, wanting to reach her before she could spot me and jump up. She turned her head as I approached, her eyes glazed over. It took her about a second to recognize me. When she did, a smile broke out, and she ripped out her ear buds.

"Bella! Oh, Bella!" I threw my arms around her slender shoulders and held her silently as she clutched me. Her whole body shook with emotion.

"Al, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Al. I'm sorry I left you," I spoke as though the words would make sense to her. Alice pulled back, holding me out at arm's length.

"Where have you—it doesn't matter. Are you safe now? Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, confused by her questions.

"I'm not hurt, Al. I'm so happy to see you, it's been--"

"Jasper told me everything," she spoke quietly, her jaw clenched tightly. She was angry. Alice was so rarely angry, but there it was--fury boiled out from her eyes, spilling over into her voice, into her tightly clenched fists.

"Everything? Al, why are you here? What's happened?" I indicated to the electrodes stuck to her head, but she ignored my questions.

"You don't know," she spoke slowly, her eyes widening. "He hasn't told you," her voice was filled with awe--an almost disgusted awe. She pulled her hands from my shoulders and trapped my own hands between hers.

"Oh God, Bella, you don't know."

"Alice, for God's sake! What the hell is going on?"

"Edward," she spoke slowly and my heart immediately plummeted down to my toes. Had she seen him when we came in? Seen and recognized him? She'd seen pictures of Edward before; it was possible she had recognized him.

"You know," I said slowly. "You saw us?"

Alice froze. The only thing that moved was her eyes. She blinked once…twice, very slowly.

"He's here?" she whispered, her quiet fury slithering through to her hands, causing my own to shake.

"Yeah, he's…Alice," my voice was filled with a warning even Alice was unable to ignore this time. Her eyes snapped back to my face.

"Edward has had you followed for the past five years. There are…he has pictures of you at school, at the grocery store, around Seattle."

It was my turn to blink uncomprehendingly.

"Five years. He has known who you've dated, where you've worked. What you eat!" The coolness of her voice sprang up in astonishment with the last sentence.

My blood ran cold and my hands sat frozen in Alice's as she continued.

"He did it himself for awhile. But then, he couldn't anymore. He hired someone to watch you," her voice had turned slightly hollow as she delivered that news. I had to find my voice, I had to know.

"Who?" I whispered. I saw so much emotion run through her eyes. Bitterness, sadness, pride, love. Of course, I knew who. It could only be one person. It could only have _ever _been one person.

"Jasper," she whispered back finally. She pulled her head down and took a breath. "Jasper."

I closed my eyes, my head whirling.

"They've know each other since before Edward and you met. Jasper comes from a similar situation, but he went one way and Edward went the other. They remained friends though, and when Edward couldn't handle it anymore, he called on Jasper for help. Jasper agreed all the way up until recently. Until he met me."

There were no words, so I didn't try.

"Jasper recognized you in the bar that night, but not until after we had started talking. Diabla's, on the five year anniversary. He…he…he said he tried to put me out of his head, he knew it could never be right to date me, to date Bella Swan's best friend. But he couldn't, Bella, no matter what he told himself, he couldn't stop himself.

"You didn't call on Sunday night or on Monday, but I didn't start to worry about you until Tuesday. Tuesday night, someone called identifying herself as a friend from Arizona and fed me this bullshit story about you taking a random road trip. I don't even know she they were trying to kid. I freaked out, Bella. I told Jasper about it and that night, he came clean. He told me everything. I was so angry, Bella, and scared. I…I haven't been able to see him since. Last night, I landed myself here. Mom and Dad were so worried about me. I'd been a wreck all week; I didn't go to class. And I've been having these _dreams_, Bella, these horrible dreams--"

I had started to shake.

"Bella. Where is he? Why are you two here?"

"We came to see Seth in room 316. He saved me. He has information. Ed--"

I couldn't go on. I couldn't say his name.

What had he done?

"He _saved _you?" She spat the words, venom piercing the air and landing violently in my head.

Saved me. Saved me?

Suddenly, Alice was ripping off the electrodes, leaping from her bed, and was out the door before I could even turn my trembling frame. By the time I could convince my limbs to follow, she was already standing in front of room 316. The door opened, and I watched Alice make a lunge for Edward, her small firsts of fury flying.

***

He took a step toward us, toward me. Alice pulled back from me and shook her head.

"Leave her alone--you've done enough," spoke Alice, standing to face Edward as though she were protecting me from a monster.

Was that _exactly_ what she was doing? Was he a monster?

"She needs me," he said softly. And then at Alice's glare, "She needs protection, Alice."

"Jasper can protect her. Sounds like you haven't been doing the best of jobs." Alice and Edward faced each other, and at the delivery of those words, Edward winced slightly.

I needed to get away. And so, while they continued to argue, I turned my body and crawled over to the emergency staircase door beside me, pushing open the door and allowing it to close silently behind me, leaving Alice and Edward squaring off in their own verbal arena, while Carlisle ran off to a sudden code blue. I straightened up and took the stairs quickly, nearly tripping multiple times as I ran, but I managed to stay upright. As I approached the final staircase though, my knees buckled and my breath hitched. I was suddenly grasping furiously to hold onto something, anything, to help me break my fall without crashing. I found the edge of a step and managed to sit down hard. I quickly pulled my head between my knees and took deep shuddering breaths.

How could he? How could he?

I ground my fists into my cheeks hard, willing myself not to cry but instead to focus on the pain against my skin. But my lips, my damn betraying lips. They continued to tingle despite my pain and his deception. Instead of feeling the pain, they reminded me of the elevator. More specifically, they reminded me of the kiss in the elevator. I had been confused, scared, and uncertain. Everything inside of me demanded to touch him, to show him what my words could not, to show him what his return into my life meant for my heart. His lips--sweet, tender, passionate--not like I had remembered.

They were even better. He had answered my confusion with a gentle sureness, a promise.

But now…

Something in my pocket jabbed at my hip, and I grabbed the object. It was the key to the truck that Edward had thrown to me as we had entered the hospital. I took one more deep breath, stood, and made my way down the last set of stairs. Once at the ground floor, I pushed the heavy door open quickly, flying to the truck as my messy ponytail blew in the harsh wind around me. I unlocked the door, got in, and--without even a second thought-- brought the powerful Ford to life.

But I couldn't leave. Instead, the walls I had constructed around my heart, the barriers I had erected with the sureness of a builder, began to crumble and my eyes were about to betray me as my lips already had--the tears would start soon. Head on steering wheel, clutching my own hair tightly, I gulped in big breaths, holding on to anything to keep me afloat.

The sudden banging of knuckles against glass caused me to jump slightly and turn my head to the window beside me.

It was him, and I was instantly glad he wouldn't see me cry.

His face was full of remorse, his eyes frantic.

"Bella," he begged, pleaded. "Please. Unlock the door. We have to…the security officer recognized me, we've got to go."

I considered leaving him there, I really did. I could just shift into drive, give the truck some gas, and leave him behind to deal with this mess himself. I could.

But I thought of Seth and the bullets and the danger. The blood, the hospital walls, the pain. I couldn't. If anything happened to Edward, if I had to lose him a second time, I wouldn't be able to cope. I could pretend all I wanted, and I would do exactly that, but I could not lose him again.

I unlocked the doors, but didn't slide over. He was my passenger now.

Edward looked at me uncertainly, his face a devastating mixture of pain, sadness and regret, but he quickly jogged around the truck and opened the door, and got in.

"You're okay to--"

I took off, squealing the tires as I did. It was my turn to regain some control. I was my turn to drive. It was my turn to ask the fucking questions.

"What did Seth say?" I asked quietly, gathering myself. Edward didn't answer for a moment, but I felt his eyes on me.

"They want you…to get to me," he finally answered, his voice tight.

"Why? Who would have known...?"

"I don't know why. And I don't know who would have known about us. The Boss knows, the man in charge of our organization. He's the liaison between FBI and my sector and a very powerful man. He said he knew my parents. My file is locked up in the highest security office, Bella. When Edward Masen died, the truth was closely guarded."

"Jasper knows," I said after a beat. From the corner of my eye, I saw him nod swiftly.

"Bella, I--"

"You've been trying to tell me?" I interrupted, checking my anger, because I was pretty sure he had tried to tell me the night before. And maybe even before that.

"I…yeah," he finished lamely. I took a sharp right, throwing him against the passenger side door.

"Seatbelt," I announced. "Who else knows?"

"That's all I'm aware of, Bella," he breathed quickly as I took a sharp left this time, knocking him across the truck and into my shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"Where will I be safe, Edward? Where will I be safe from these people?" I was proud of the unwavering demand in my voice.

When he didn't answer right away, I shook my head.

"Then I'm going to Charlie's fishing cabin," I answered. It was a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, a cabin he used when he took entire weekends off to fish.

"No. They will know about the cabin." He was firm, there would be no arguing that point.

"Then where?" I demanded. "Where?" A single tear betrayed my façade, zigzagging down my cheek though it had nothing to do with my fear. "Why?" I whispered. "Why, Edward?"

"I…I needed to know you were okay," he responded.

"You watched me for five years," I spoke slowly now, my eyes on the road. "You saw me leave for college. You saw me date guys. You saw me with Alice. I smiled a lot in five years. You saw me be more than okay. Why did you keep watching me?"

The tears kept coming and suddenly, my vision blurred and the road wavered. Next to me, Edward leaned over and turned the steering wheel slightly to the right, pulling us over and into a long deserted alley. I braked automatically and Edward pulled the transmission between us into park. I stared blindly at the dashboard, gripping the wheel tightly.

"You took yourself out of my life, only to continue to be a part of it without me even knowing. Why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

"I was selfish," he responded, his voice low, gruff. I turned to him, tears streaming down my face now. "I didn't want to leave you, Bella. I had not wanted to leave you. But I had to; I didn't have a choice."

"We always have a choice, Edward. You just chose to think you had no choice," I answered, angry.

"Okay, fine. You're right--but my choice was to not endanger you. I didn't want to pull you into this life. I didn't want this 'life'_" --_he spat the word out as though it contained an offensive flavo_r-- "_to spill over into yours. I never thought it would, I didn't think for one second that this would ever--" he had to cut himself off, take a breath.

"You didn't want your life to spill over to mine? Then what the hell were you doing lurking in my life? Why were you hiring people…hiring Jasper to--" and then I stopped. I stopped and turned my head to Edward, my mouth gaping open.

"No. No…you didn't. You wouldn't." I stuttered the words slowly, my eyes widening at the very thought, the very idea that suddenly plagued me.

"Bella…" and in his green eyes I saw the truth. He wasn't sure what I was about to say, but we both knew it would be true; he was guilty of so much. So much. I grabbed at the door handle behind me, pulling it up, my hand shaking.

"Jasper was in the institution. Jasper was the doctor who, the one who—you _did_, you let him. You knew I was there. You knew I was there but you didn't…."

_Come for me. Rescue me, _I finished silently.

I pushed the door open and stumbled out backwards, my eyes never once leaving his face.

"I had to know what was going on but I couldn't-- I needed to know, Bella, if you were okay."

"I went through hell in that place. Hell." I grabbed my face as I felt myself crumble.

"Bella," he was scrambling out of the truck now from the passengers door, his eyes frighteningly full of pain. But that wasn't fair. He couldn't do that to me.

Not when he'd already done so much.

***

**Edward. Thursday. Late.**

I had been told for almost five years how great I was at my job. I was constantly told my instincts were dead on and that was why I was so great at what I did. When we were assigned a target, we were never supposed to just kill him. We were to study him, to know his every move, and to know his mind. We were to know he was, without a doubt, deserving of a bullet to the head.

My forté? I knew when to act and when to stay in the shadows. I knew because I always studied so carefully, too carefully. I was a man with flawless attention to detail. Or at least, I used to be.

And now, here I was, unable to figure out anything. The pieces kept falling and yet, I was unable to figure out exactly how they fit—and , more importantly, where I went so very wrong. I was unable to figure out who was after Bella, who was after me. I was a fucking failure, and I knew it—but it was the expression on Bella's face, standing there in front of my truck, shaking from head to toe, looking at me like I was—like I was a monster.

And wasn't I?

And yet, back in the hospital, when Alice and I had realized that Bella was gone, Alice had whispered to me words I would never have expected to enter her head or leave her mouth. It had happened as I'd dashed for the stairs, realizing almost too late that Bella had fled. Her words had been soft, and I had nearly missed them.

"You would die for her. You did die for her. Keep her safe. I'll be watching," I had paused at the door, turning to take one last look at the pixie who had, only moments before, been throwing verbal daggers at me. She was pointing up at her head, and I thought I understood, but in that second, the security guard had returned, cup of coffee in hand, and instantly had recognized me.

It had been only pure luck that Bella hadn't left the parking lot yet.

But now.

Look what I had done to her. I had reduced her entire life to fear, pain and hurt. All of those she may have been before, but now…they were due to me. I was the direct cause and all of it could have been avoided if I had just…what? What could have I done differently? I considered. Had I never followed her after my demise, had I left her alone and never watched her, what would have happened? Would she still have found herself in Gleason's apartment last Sunday night, completely at his mercy? Would he have hurt her as he had hurt women before?

And backing up further, had I never come to her window, had she never gone to the institution…would she have been able to move on happily? Find a serious boyfriend? Would she be in love with someone normal--happy and safe?

I didn't have the answers.

As I watched her back away from me now, I got it. I really did—the agony in her face said it all. And so when she turned and ran, it took me more than a moment to follow. I wanted to let her go grieve, I wanted to let her have some time to be alone—but I couldn't. It was just too dangerous, and that very fact was reiterated as an all too familiar yellow mustang turned into our currently occupied alley and gunned its engine. We had been followed.

"Bella!" I yelled to her retreating back. I thought at first she might ignore my call, but then she turned--she must have heard the sounds of the mustang. Her brown eyes wide, they focused first on me and then switched to the mustang in the distance. The mustang that was no longer exactly in the distance.

It was coming at us now, gathering speed.

"The truck, Bella, get in the truck!" I pulled out my gun and carefully took aim, pointing at the front right tire of the mustang. Behind me, I could only hope Bella was following my instructions. The passenger's side window rolled down, and suddenly I was struggling not to notice the semi-automatic rifle pointing in my general direction. I kept focus and shot at the right tire, once, twice. I stepped quickly backwards toward the truck as the mustang swerved sharply at a chain-link fence. I grabbed the passenger's door and jumped in, relieved to see Bella already pushing the transmission into reverse and stepping on the gas.

The mustang had regained its forward momentum, the driver obviously expertly compensating for the blown out tire as the car straightened itself and propelled forward toward the truck. It was still yards away, but I rolled down the window and pulled my upper body through, leaning expertly out through the flame, my gun aimed at the left front tire.

"Keep us as straight as you can!" I yelled over to Bella. She let out a string of swearwords, mostly directed at her lack of reversing skills and the fact that she had failed driver's ed the first time around, but managed to straighten up, using the rear-view mirror as a guide rather than twisting around in her seat.

The driver of the mustang saw what I was about to do and began swerving from left to right, successfully fucking up my aim.

"Fuck it," I muttered. I pointed my gun up at the window and shot at the windshield, squeezing off a couple of rounds.

"What are you doing?" shrieked Bella, her eyes off the mirror and over at me in horror. I grabbed more ammo from my messenger bag and reloaded my gun quickly.

"Saving our asses," I replied, slamming shut the chamber and leaning back out the window.

The yellow mustang took a sharp detour towards the ditch before straightening out again. The driver's side door opened and a body was pushed out and left behind. Just like that.

"Shit, shit, shit," muttered Bella, her face white. "Is he dead? Oh man, shit."

"Keep going, Bella. We're almost at Gable Street. As soon as we get there, throw this thing into drive," I yelled, my body still extended from the passenger window. This time though, bullets flew by me, and I pulled back quickly into the truck. There had been more than two people in the car. A new driver and still a shooter. Damn.

I looked behind us. Gable Street was quickly approaching.

"Can you do this, Bella? We have very little time to crank from reverse into drive."

"I can do this," she replied, her face a mask of deadly determination. I was not going to argue with that face. I leaned back out the window and aimed again, missing the left tire and hitting the body of the car instead. I pulled back in at the exact moment I felt Bella slam on the brakes. We skidded beautifully into Gable Street and before we could even come to a stop, Bella shifted into drive, cranked at the wheel, and we took off, away from the tight alley and away from the mustang.

My eyes moved quickly to Bella's face.

"Jesus! That was beautiful! You sure you're not one of us?" I asked, amazed at what she'd just done.

"I did that in a dream once," she replied, sounding slightly dazed.

"Well…shit. Put that on your resume," I answered, craning my neck around to see where the mustang was. It had not followed us out of the alley. Why the fuck not?

"Where are we going? Where should I go?" asked Bella, her voice starting to sound slightly panicked.

"I need to know who they are," I answered slowly. "I need to get back to that body." Of course, that's why they had not followed us. They couldn't leave behind such valuable evidence.

"They'll be there," she replied, the panic setting in.

"They will. But I don't have much time if I'm going to figure any of this out. There won't be more than three, and as long as I can surprise them there won't be a problem. Turn here, Bella. You're going to drop me off just up by that grocery store and then you're going to keep driving to Jasper's house." I gave her an address in the Queen Anne district, knowing she would know the area. Jasper lived in Bella's bright world, not my own dark one.

Bella stayed silent, and I figured she hated me too much to argue. She pulled over next to a run-down grocery store, closed down long ago and boarded up.

"You don't have to do this," she said quietly as I grabbed up more ammo and an additional gun. I stopped and looked at her. She was conflicted, I saw that. She couldn't look me in the eye, but her words—those were sincere.

"This is my job, Bella, my life. I got you into this mess, and I intend to get you out safely."

She looked sad, and I breathed, leaning over quickly, wondering if I should risk touching her cheek, her lips. My hand hovered uncertainly before I pulled it away.

"I'll see you at Jasper's?" I asked. I had to know.

"Don't die again," she responded. And though that wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, I nodded and jumped out of the truck. Time was running out.

"I'll see you at Jasper's," I repeated, firmly. "Go!"

She put her hand to the cheek I'd almost touched and said nothing. I turned and sprinted past the grocery store, and then behind it, hopping the fence quickly. A few more feet and I would come out behind where the body should be, where the mustang probably was. I ducked low and ran past a few trash cans. Gun stretched out in front of me, I was able to use nearby bushes as cover to look down the length of the alley**. **As I'd suspected, I came out on the left side, yards behind the yellow mustang. Two men dressed head to toe in black were getting ready to pick up the dead body and throw it into the open trunk.

This was going to be so easy, I was almost disappointed. But then I thought of Bella, hopefully on her way to Jasper's, and I knew I had to act quickly. I had to tell her things…I had to get her to understand. I had to tell her _everything_ if there could ever be hope at all…And she certainly wasn't going to like the last bit.

I took careful aim and shot quickly, the first man in black going down with a bullet to the center of his forehead. The other man jumped back quickly, grabbed his gun, and swung around, obviously not knowing exactly where to aim his weapon.

I finally had the upper hand in all this mess, at least for the moment.

I shot at his left leg quickly, and then allowed a second bullet to just graze the arm holding the gun. He went down with a yell and a spray of blood, grasping at his injured leg.

I stepped out from my cover and strode quickly to the scene, kicking away the two nearby guns and pointing my own at his face. I looked at the other two bodies—both very obviously dead—and didn't recognize any of their faces.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want with me?"

"Don't fucking shoot!" yelled the man, his eyes wide and full of fright.

"Answer the question," I replied calmly, setting my foot on top of the bullet wound in his leg. Might as well do this quickly. I could tell he would talk, and I was not in the mood for games.

"Who do you work for?" I asked.

"The Volturi," he answered quickly. His pain threshold was clearly not high.

"The Volturi? Aro Volturi? What the hell would he want with me?" Aro Volturi was the Seattle area mob boss and a very good one at that--he and the law generally tip-toed around one another's business. I hated the corruptness of their arrangement, but who was I to question right and wrong. Sadly, the greater picture of good depended heavily on information received from Aro Volturi.

"He doesn't want anything from you. It's the girl they want."

"Why?" I demanded, pressing down harder on his bleeding leg. He half coughed, half screamed at the increased pressure.

"I don't know—we were contracted out by someone to kidnap her. I don't know who!" he added quickly.

"Was it the Volturi at the safe-house?"

"Yes," he cringed, grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming again.

"You shot Seth, the man at the safe-house?" I'd get that one out of the way quickly, sealing his fate.

"The agent? Fuck, yeah, we do what we have to!"

I nodded coldly, picturing the many entrance wounds marring Seth's damaged body.

"How did they know where it was? How?"

"I don't know! They have a contact…must be one of yours. I don't fucking know who!"

"Does any of this have anything to do with James Gleason?"

"Gleason? Drug trafficker? I don't fucking know! His people are beyond pissed that he's dead and one of ours, Victoria, was fucking him! That's all I got!"

I rubbed my temple quickly, the pieces weren't yet fitting.

"Victoria who?" But I already knew.

"Dunno her last name, man. She's one of Aro's main go-to girls. She and Gleason were…close."

"This could be revenge?" I said out loud, more to myself than the man on the ground in front of me.

"It's more than Victoria's revenge, if it is. Someone outside of Volturi contracted them. I would guess there's something a hell of a lot bigger happening here." I knew that, too, but I'd wanted to hear him say it. "Now fucking let me go or I'm dead right here."

"What's your name?" I asked, removing my foot from his wound. The man half sat up, still clutching his leg.

"Laurent," he answered frantically. I nodded. As I turned to walk away, I aimed my gun at his head and squeezed the trigger.

I didn't look back.

***

**Bella, Friday, 12:30am**

I couldn't leave him, I couldn't.

I tried to leave. I had driven about seven blocks, not on my way to Jasper's house, but instead to Charlie's fishing cabin, hours away. I wanted to defy him, to laugh in the face of pain and death. I wanted to conquer the magnetic pull and show my treacherous body parts that they could live without him. And yet no matter how completely outraged I was at him, I could not leave him there without a getaway vehicle and, cursing the entire time, had pulled the truck around.

And so there I was, sitting in a rundown café across from the closed decrepit grocery store, with a perfect window view of every way in and out of the alley, and the truck carefully concealed around the corner.

My coffee was lukewarm at best but it didn't matter because I was distracted by everything I'd just learned from Alice and Edward. As I distractedly tore up a pink Sweet N Low packet, my heart swam frantically, trying to catch up with my head.

In my mind, I hated him for what he'd done to me. I felt more broken than ever, and broken by the one person I had thought would always keep me glued together. How wrong I had been. But my heart--God, my heart--it was arguing ferociously with my head. It pled for me to remember the kiss. To remember the way he looked at me. To remember the way he touched me.

But I was sick of betrayal. I was sick of being betrayed by my self, and I knew that's exactly what my heart was doing.

I would stop listening to my heart. I would leave.

As I gathered my things and left some pocket change on the cheap laminate table-top, I happened to glance up and notice that the upper left corner of the café was occupied by spider webs and an old RCA television from the 1950s…it was fuzzy and it jumped in and out of focus, but the news reporter's voice rang crystal clear and it immediately drew my attention.

"This just in: a warrant is out for the arrest of a 22 year-old man tonight, charged with the murder of 20 year-old law enforcement agent, Seth Clearwater. Clearwater was first shot in the line of duty last night and taken to Harborview Medical Center where it was announced this afternoon that he was in stable condition. Only an hour ago, we received word that Clearwater has just been fatally shot in his hospital bed by the 22 year-old in question. Though we have no photographs of the man in question, we do have a police drawing. Take a close look. This man is armed and dangerous. We repeat—an unnamed 22 year- old man, as shown in the police drawing on the screen, is charged with the murder of Seth Clearwater and a warrant is out for this man's arrest. Please call if you have any information."

Even in the dimly lit diner, the charcoal drawing was unmistakable: Edward Masen's haunted face stared out at me from the flicking television set.

* * *

**A/N:** I know. Sigh. But don't forget, hating me will get you nowhere : )

Thanks again to everyone reading, favoriting and recc'ing. The response lately to this fic has been astounding. I wish my updates could be more frequent, but alas, I'm back to school and work—and (as you all know) life is hectic. The next chapter is coming along nicely though…oh! And add me on twitter if you have one, for updates and stuff…**xSomah** is the name:)

Thanks to the wonderful Twilightzoner for going over this chapter for me. There would be a bunch of WTF moments if it weren't for her: )

Finally, I love and read every review. If you've had a question, you probably heard back from me...but I'm finding if difficult to reply to everyone! Just know that I read and love everyone of them and PM me if you would like a quick answer--I promise to answer:)


	14. Chapter 13 Empty

I own nothing blah blah blah.

So many thanks to twilightzoner for betaing the shit out of this chapter: )

* * *

**Chapter 13 Empty**

Bella, Friday. Early.

My stomach revolted against me as I staggered blindly toward the front door of the diner, hands grasping at anything to steady my jerky movements. His face—charcoal and scared—danced before my eyes, and I barely noticed when the jingle of the bell shook above the door, announcing my sudden freedom from the awful confines of the room.

Arms stretched out in front of me, I followed the sharp curve of the sticky brick wall and fell to my knees in what I could only hope was an alley or side street. My breath escaping in quick gasps, I felt the gravel beneath me cut deeply into my flesh, but I ignored that particular pain.

A cold, cruel fist grabbed at my insides and squeezed tightly, wringing my guts as hard as possible. I gagged, my whole body heaving forward forcefully, demanding something, _anything_ from my empty stomach. But there was nothing left to give.

_Empty._

I bent lower to the ground, the grimy bricks pressed up against my arm sending a wave of coolness up my heated body. My stupid, empty body. Tears of frustration and pain streaked my face as I gagged once more, managing only to spit out saliva.

_Seth!_ Seth was dead. And Edward was being accused of killing him. Everything in my mind swirled illogically—nothing made any sense, nothing had made any sense in almost a week now—but the one thing I did know was that Edward could not have done it. He couldn't have. He was not a killer.

_But he is_, whispered my mind cruelly, y_ou've seen him kill twice now_.

I shut my eyes against the image of Dr. G's dead body, blood still seeping from the bullet hole in his head. But behind my eyelids lay not a sanctuary; rather, what waited for me in the darkness was the man in the yellow mustang. Edward had so easily taken his life--he had been so quick to play God.

_They would have taken me. They might have killed us both. _They_ were the bad guys._

Were they, though? How many lives had Edward taken? How many more would he take? Who told him these people deserved to die? And when did good and evil get so fucking complicated?

A car door slammed, snapping me back to attention. I suddenly felt extremely conspicuous crouching in the dirty side street.

"Bella?" My heart leapt for the smallest fraction of a second before I realized it was not _his_ deep voice that called my name. I turned my head slowly toward the unfamiliar voice, grabbing a handful of gravel in my fist as I straighten up, ready to either blind the voice with rocks or to run the other way. The man approached me slowly, slow enough for me to thoroughly take him in. His blond hair curled slightly under his black baseball cap and his eyes…they were so…I knew _them_.

"Jasper?" I spoke the name carefully, warily, as I loosened my grasp on the gravel, the small rocks falling dutifully back to their place in this world.

He nodded, his eyes having already left my face as he scanned the area around us.

"We need to move," he said quickly, his eyes now focused across the street--across the street and on the beat-up grocery store, I realized. My heart constricted painfully. "You're not safe here."

"Edwa--" I stopped short, glancing again at Jasper's face. Jasper's eyes snapped back to mine and they softened.

"He called. Not long ago. Told me where I might find you."

"But—how did he know I wouldn't…"

"Bella, he knew." I looked across the street, to where Edward had vacated the truck only what…minutes ago? Hours ago? How long ago had it been? My concept of time had vanished days ago, but I was tired. Drained. And he said he trusted Jasper. Alice had trusted Jasper, still did, I was sure. I would have to trust him too. I had nothing else, nowhere else to go.

I nodded. "Okay."

I followed Jasper to a black Acura RSX parked in front of the diner, the driver side door still open.

I slipped quickly into the passenger seat, secured my seat-belt, and stared straight ahead. The realization of who I was sitting next to suddenly hit me. _This man knows everything about you. This man has been following you, watching you, taking pictures of you for years._

I felt something boil up under my skin but I stuffed my fists down to my sides, careful to not let anything loose. Because I still didn't understand the relationship between Edward and Jasper. How did they—how had they come to this?

The silence stretched on, and I glanced over. Jasper's face was calm, at ease. I instantly felt my muscles relax slightly.

"Where did Edward go?" Slowly unclenching my fists, I flexed my fingers, working out the tension.

"Those men in the alley, the men he killed…they had some new information. He had to follow up right away, before the trail cooled," replied Jasper, his southern drawl especially noticeable.

"Does he know he's been framed? That they're looking for him?" I asked softly. Jasper looked over at me, surprise written clearly on his face.

"Framed." He paused, as though contemplating the word, then looked back at the road. "He'll be careful. This is his job, Bella. This is his life."

"So I keep hearing," I answered, shaking my head. "Who are they? Who is doing this?"

"Have you heard of the Volturi?" Jasper glanced over at me as he maneuvered back to a very familiar highway.

"The Seattle mob?" I questioned back, surprised. Jasper nodded.

"It seems they've been contracted out to get hold of you."

"But…why?" I ran through my squeaky clean 22 years. Other than being a small town police chief's daughter, I didn't understand. I didn't warrant a kidnapping-- what the hell would the mob want with me?

"It all ties back to your Edward. He fucked up along the way, somewhere. He pissed off the wrong person, and apparently, that person happened to find out his weakness." Jasper's tone changed, and I looked over at him curiously. He clenched the steering wheel more tightly, his jaw tight.

"What'd he do?" I asked carefully. Jasper's laugher was short.

"If it was that easy, then fuck--we'd not be doing this. You would be fine, though none the wiser, E would continue to merely exist and I—well, I might still have Alice." I felt a chill shiver its way up my spine, teasing its tiny fingers through my hair, over my scalp, and across my body. I looked down at my arms. Tiny goose bumps littered my skin.

"Alice," I whispered her name. Jasper let out a long breath beside me.

"Alice," he repeated so softly, I almost didn't hear him. "I'm sorry, Bella. About everything that has happened. About anything that will happen. Always know, I always want you to know, that everything with Alice has been…. I didn't know anything like her was possible in this world. My world—you have to understand—my world has been fucked up for so long, Bella. Not unlike E's. We both got the short end of the shit stick as kids. Things would never really get better."

I hesitated a moment.

"But you did okay. Your life didn't turn out the way Edward's did. You work legitimately for the FBI."

"Things are not always as they appear, Bella. I may have the outward appearance going for me, but E and me? We're not so different. He's tied by his ghosts. I'm tied by my own. We just chose different ways in which to deal with our nightmares." He stopped for a second, and I watched from the corner of my eye as he fought to control the muscles in his face. "But Alice. She stepped into my world, and she brought with her a ray of light, shining so brightly, casting shadows on all the bad things in my life--all the shit I've done. She brought with her everything I had always wanted to believe in, but never was allowed to. She means so much to me…and I've already hurt her."

His sincerity overwhelmed me, his tenderness, and his pain.

"She's mad right now," I nodded, suddenly understanding his emotions. "She's mad right now because of your part in all this. But she won't be mad forever. She adores you, Jasper. She…she dreamed of you even before she knew you. And when she met you…well, I couldn't talk any sense into her. She knew."

I smiled slightly as I remembered my best friend's conviction that Jasper was her dream man.

"You told her the truth about yourself. You did something hard and noble and worthy. She'll forgive you; it's not too late." I wasn't merely speculating. I knew this to be true.

"The truth," Jasper repeated, nodding, but the tension didn't leave his face.

"But will you? Forgive?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering over to me and then back to the road. And I knew he was suddenly referring not to him or his actions, but to Edward's.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully.

"Everything he's done, Bella Swan, he's done for you. I'm not pushing that statement on you, and I'm not trying to convince you of anything. I just am stating a fact: no matter how bad it looks to you, no matter how fucked up it all seems, everything he does in this world, he does for you." Jasper paused, and I bit the inside of my cheek. "The man may have made plenty of mistakes, but in the end, for him, it's all about you. We can all learn something from him," he finished softly, sadly.

I wanted to argue, I did. I wanted to grab Jasper by the shirt, and shake him until he understood. I wanted him to realize what the fuck he was saying, what he was condoning.

Instead, my fists balled tightly up again at my sides and I remained quiet. Instead, I would let those words sink deeply into my mind. I would roll them over and over and over until they either made sense, or made me so mad I did something about them. For now, they would silently marinate, waiting out their fate.

I was beginning to recognize the streets now, and I felt a familiar warmth creep into me, happy to feel home, or as close to home as I was going to get for awhile.

"Is he going to be all right out there?" I asked suddenly, as Jasper turned the car onto a residential street full of beautiful homes.

"He knows what he's doing."

But something rang incredibly untrue in Jasper's half-ass answer. I'd watched Edward jump from the truck before we parted. I'd seen the look in his eyes, the uncertainly in his actions.

Probably not for the first time in his life, I was pretty sure Edward had no idea what the hell he was doing.

***

Edward, Friday. Early.

I knew only one thing for sure…I had to smash my fucking cell phone. Jonze had given it to me when I joined the team, constantly taking it from me and delivering a newer, more technologically advanced model almost every few months. Who knew what kind of chip was in it—what kind of tracking device they could use to find me if the wrong person was looking?

It would be an inconvenience, sure, but I knew the time had come. And so, with the butt of my gun, I smashed the cell phone to bits and kept walking, leaving the now unidentifiable pieces close to the three dead bodies, my mind already moving on. Had Bella listened to me and made it safely to Jasper's?

I jogged from the alley and down the main street of the desolate piece of town, glancing back over my shoulder. Nothing. I had spent more time in the alley then I had meant to, but I was lucky this time. Either no one cared enough to see what all the noise had been about or there really was no one around this ghost town section of city. Either reason worked for me.

Blocks away now, I ducked into a small side street and eyed an old Buick LeSabre. I made a face, but it would have to do. Not wasting any time, I spotted a nearby brick and quickly smashed in the passenger side window, reaching in to unlock the doors. There was no time for lock picking, not today. Quickly, I brushed away some stray glass and slid into the driver seat, bending low to hot-wire the tired car awake.

Locating the two red wires and twisting them together quickly, I touched the brown ignition wire to the reds and placed my foot on the gas pedal. The radio came blaring to life along with the engine, and as I paused to turn it down, the deejay's words caught my attention.

"…was a newly trained agent in a special branch of the program and was reportedly great at what he did. Police are on the hunt for the man responsible for Clearwater's death, an unnamed 22 year old, accused of shooting the young agent to death in his hospital bed only hours ago before driving off in a blue Ford F150."

My blood ran cold.

That was me. Fuck, it was me they were hunting. But what the fuck? Who was framing me? And Seth. Fucking Seth was dead. I ran a cold hand across my face, hesitating before pulling the car into drive. Feelings were the first things we were supposed to lose, but I'd never managed to perfect that part. Fucking Seth, he'd risked his life for Bella--and had died for it.

I drove away from the area, my mind reeling, before I stopped at a payphone. While the car idled quietly at the curb, I inserted a quarter and first called Jasper. There was no answer. Not even a voice mail message came up. I glared at the phone as though it had tricked me and then hit the receiver against the phone booth, like it would do something helpful. I dialed one more time. Nothing.

"What the fuck, Whitlock?" I hung up, thought a moment, and then dialed Jonze's direct line.

"Yeah, Jonze here," his voice was quick, impatient.

"Jonze," I answered, paused.

"Decoy! What the fuck man! What the fuck!" he nearly yelled the words at me, his attention suddenly sharp and direct.

"What the fuck yourself! What the hell is this fucking manhunt?" I was suddenly angry. He had let this happen, but why?

"Decoy, you disappeared on us. You haven't called. No one knew where you were. Fucking Clearwater is shot dead in his bed, the same fucking night, same _hour_ that you pay him a visit!"

"And you really thought that was me? You know me better than that, Jonze. I didn't fucking shoot Seth. I was there, yeah--but someone's framing me. The Volturi's tangled up in this somehow. I just took out three of their men." I wasn't sure I should have let that last part out, but I was so fucking mad at what he'd allowed to happen.

"The security man at the hospital, he saw you there. He swears you were in there with Clearwater; he was already talking to the media. We didn't have a choice…"

"Didn't have a choice?" I scoffed at that, the words echoed around in my mind. Where had I just heard that very phrase? "We always have a choice, Jonze." The words ran together as I placed them. Bella had told me that exact thing, only hours ago. And she was fucking right, we always have a choice. I had a choice from the very beginning. I leaned heavily against the graffiti filled phone booth, my body sagging with a heavy realization I wasn't sure I was ready to handle.

"Well then, Decoy, my fucking _choice_ was to do my job. You know priority has to come first when it comes to covering our messes up. I had to cover the agency's ass. This shit cannot be tracked back to us, man."

"So I'm on my own now? Is that what's happening here?"

"No. You're not on your fucking own. Cut your hair, dye the shit out of it. Did you see the charcoal drawing they released? Really? Looks nothing like you. We'll catch the "armed 22 year old" in quick time, Decoy. Get your ass in here. We'll figure out where to go from here."

"And Bella?" I asked, my voice controlled.

"She's with you?" He didn't bother to hide a note of surprise.

"I need to know she'll be safe. The fucking Volturi is after her. They've been contracted out by someone else. There's a fucking mole close, Jonze."

"I'll talk to Aro. Where is she now?"

I hesitated.

"I don't know." It wasn't a lie. I was only assuming she was with Jasper. But she could have taken my truck and crossed the Canadian border by now.

Jonze was quiet.

"Get yourself here quickly." I listened to the dial tone for a few seconds and then hung up the phone. Not yet. I had to know that she was safe. I tried Jasper's cell phone number one more time, wondering if I was remembering the correct digits. Had I been thinking, I would have looked at my contact list once more before trashing my phone.

Back in the car, I turned toward Jasper's side of town.

His house was dark when I got there. I glanced at the tiny digital numbers on the Buick dashboard. It was almost 5:30 a.m. I had left Bella hours ago. I hoped she was getting the sleep she so badly needed.

Quietly, I closed the car door and made my way through the fence and to Jasper's front door. Just as I lifted my hand to knock, the heavy wood door flew open and Jasper came rushing out, dressed in a navy suit, white collared shirt and a navy and red striped tie. He looked at me in surprise and kicked the front door open again behind him, but didn't stop walking as he made his way to the black car parked under the carport.

"Get her out of here, now. Take her away, E. Far, far away." He tossed the words over his shoulder. Stopping to pull open his car door, he looked me in the eye, the blue of his irises lit with an intense heat. "I'm sorry," and with that, he got into his Acura and backed away down the driveway. I watched him in a confused daze, watching until his car disappeared. And then, I snapped back into reality.

What the fuck?

I rushed into the house, the door wide open from Jasper's help.

"Bella?" I called, my heartbeat picking up. Something was obviously very wrong. What had Jasper meant? Was she hurt? Did she need help?

"Bella!" I called again, scanning the room with my eyes. The sun was starting to come up now, casting an orange glow all over the walls. Nothing on the first floor. I took the stairs two at a time, my eyes everywhere as I continued to call her name. Where was she? Why wasn't she answering?

_Why the fuck was Jasper sorry?_

And then I heard it. From down the hallway on the left side, the door to the second bedroom stood open, the sounds of running water greeting my ears. I followed the noise into the room and saw the door to the adjoining bathroom was closed, and behind it, the water continued to fall noisily in the eerie silence of the house.

I don't know exactly why I knocked first-- my heart was beating so fast I was sure it would knock the door down all on its own.

"Bella?" I called again. No answer.

I opened the door slowly, not sure what I was expecting to see. The room appeared to be empty, though the water was running in the standup shower. I looked around again, confused. I took a step in, two steps. And then I stopped, noticing the small shadow inside the shower, crumpled in the corner.

_Oh God, Bella_. I took three more steps, and pulled open the glass door, ready for anything except exactly what greeted my eyes.

Bella, her eyes staring straight ahead, sat on the shower floor, her arms around her knees, rocking slightly. She was fully clothed and completely drenched.

A strangled noise escaped my lips at the sight, and I immediately stepped into the shower, the freezing cold water slapping me quietly in the face. I crouched down until I was close to her level. Her eyes didn't even register me. Her blue lips moved wordlessly as she continued to rock, drops of water falling down her face, her shirt clinging desperately to her slender body.

"Bella," I whispered, staring at her blue lips. I reached behind me and turned the water from cold to warm, and then sank to my knees beside her, rubbing my hands up and down her frozen arms. Her eyes still didn't move away from the world in which she inhabited, her lips continuing to move soundlessly.

"Talk to me, Bella, talk to me, "I urged her, feeling the cold water warm up as it fell on my shoulders. My body now shielded the water from Bella, so I moved over slightly to allow the warmth to heat her. Impatient at its progress, I pulled her into me, onto my lap, her arms letting go of her knees, her legs falling to either side of my body. I gathered her to me, rocking the both of us now, her limp arms hanging by her sides. Her body had no warmth in it, nothing at all, and as the warm water continued to pelt us, I could feel her trembling begin. She was thawing.

"How long--?" But my voice was hoarse, and I couldn't finish the sentence. I pressed my lips into her hair. How long have you been in here? I wanted to ask, but I knew the answer wouldn't get us anywhere.

I felt her lips moving next to my ear, as I continued to rub my hands over her body, hoping the friction would help her get warm.

"He was real, he was real and they convinced me he was a dream, but he was real. He came into my window, solid. It was him, and they thought I was crazy. I was never crazy because he was real, and he never died, and I found him and kept his heart. He was real, he was real, he was real…" Her words had begun to make sound, and when I heard them, my hands stopped rubbing.

Bella had connected the dots. I had known she would eventually—that she would make the association-- that I had directly contributed to her time in the hospital. If I hadn't crawled into her window and spoken to her, selfishly said goodbye to her, she could very well have been happy and hospital free. Instead, I'd allowed her and the people around her to think she was crazy. I had let that happen, knowingly.

I squeezed my eyes shut, rocking us gently, pulling her to me more tightly and wrapping my arms around her body.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I made the wrong choice." The words came out whispered. I didn't know what else to say. I didn't know if there was anything else _to_ say. She moved against me then. Her body twitched, and her head snapped back. I loosened my hold on her, pulling back to see her face.

Her eyes locked on mine and her hands suddenly came between us, gathered into fists, and then she hit me. Over and over and over, her fists hit me weakly in the chest.

"They thought I was crazy! They thought I was…they gave me drugs and kept me locked up! They made me think I was crazy. You made me think I was crazy. You were real though. You came into my window, and you made me believe I was dreaming. You fucking…you hurt me…so much!" Her fists continued their assault on my chest and I let her go at it, my eyes on her face, taking in her pain. I needed to feel it--I needed to know it—I needed to never forget it.

"You left me. You left me so alone." Her fists stopped and I took one in each of my hands, holding them in her lap as her words took over. "You ran away and made me believe you were gone forever. Alone and broken. Five years. You were dead. Five years." Her body continued to shake, but this time it wasn't from her low body temperature. This time, she was wracked with sobs, her small frame shaking with every breath. I let her fists go and wrapped my arms around her again, holding her close while the sobs nearly tore me apart.

This moment would be etched on my heart forever.

"Never again. I fucked up, so hard. You were right about choices, so right. I didn't think I ever had one from the beginning," I whispered the words into her hair, the truth hitting me. "Never again, Bella." A small glint of something around her neck caught my attention, and I realized it was the ring I had given to her the day I had left her five years ago. She had done everything possible to keep my heart safe—she even wore it close to hers.

There was so much—so _much_ to make up for.

"Seth," she whispered, her body sagging into me at his name.

"I know," I whispered back. "I'm going to find them." It wasn't just a promise to Bella--it was a promise to Seth, and to me.

Her hands lifted slightly and found my hips, holding them loosely as she pressed her face into my chest, and I knew her tears were mingling with the shower water. I wanted to make her promises. I wanted to declare my love for her, my desire to make up for everything that had happened. But I knew now was not the time, so instead we sat there in the waterfall above, and just held each other. It would be enough for now.

When the shaking subsided, I pushed open the shower door with one hand, and held Bella carefully with my other, standing up quickly and shutting off the water. Bella's arms quickly found my neck, and she held on tight, pressing her small body against mine. I carried her out of the shower, grabbed the large white towel hanging on the towel rack, and pulled it quickly around her shoulders.

"You need to get out of those clothes," I said, hugging her to me. As much as I did not want to let her go, I could feel her shivering again, now unprotected without the blanket of warm water.

"Do you think Jasper…?" Her teeth chattered loudly but I understood the question.

"I'll go check," I responded, knowing I needed new clothes just as badly. I put her down gently on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled the towel all the way around her body.

"I'll be right back," I said gently, giving her a smile. She nodded, her eyes on the tile.

Jasper's room was neat and clean, everything I would have thought it would be. I pulled open the closet, surveying the items. He was taller than me, but I was more muscular. I grabbed a couple items for myself and threw them on the bed as I scouted for something for Bella. Up on the top shelf, I spotted some smaller clothes--women's clothes, I decided, pulling down a few items. I carried the stack back toward the bathroom where I'd left Bella, anxious to see how she was. I found her standing with the towel wrapped tightly around her body, a pile of her wet clothes sitting on the floor. She was busy un-fogging the mirror and didn't notice me for a moment as I stood taking her in. I started with her bare legs, my eyes trailing up to her exposed shoulders. That cold shower would have come in handy right about now. I cleared my throat, and Bella turned, her cheeks slightly pink.

"Thanks," she replied, accepting the pile of clothes I held out.

"There are…some things in there," I said stupidly, sneaking in one more glance at her legs. God, those legs.

She smiled and glanced down. "I think these are Alice's lulu's. God, that girl works fast," she said with a small shaky laugh, pulling out a pair of stretchy looking workout pants with a small distinct omega-esque logo near the right bottom leg. I didn't know what a "lulu" was, but I suddenly wanted very much to see them on her.

I backed out, giving her privacy and went back to Jasper's room. The jeans fit surprisingly well, and I wondered if they were the wrong size for his slimmer frame. The shirt, on the other hand, hugged my chest more than I was used to, but I shrugged. It would work.

I wandered the upstairs of Jasper's house, waiting for Bella, and feeling only a little badly about my snooping. Really though, I was taking mental note of all the windows and doors. I couldn't help it, it was a habit. Bella emerged a couple of moments later, and I had to hold back a smile. She was wearing the "lulu's," and as she turned to close the bedroom door behind her, I couldn't help but notice her ass. Good God, her ass. I had to keep my groan of appreciation internal. Bella had always been slim and in shape. Her ass was no exception, and the pants she was wearing only accentuated her firm, perfect backside. The black stretchy material hugged her in all the best places and flared slightly just below her knee. She had found a long fitted t-shirt that covered as low as her hips. Over that, she had zipped up a grey hoodie, and on her feet were her red chucks, dry. They were the only thing she'd removed before taking her icy plunge. I wanted so badly to ravage her right there against Jasper's blue wall.

Instead, I shoved my hands in my new jeans pocket and smiled at her.

"Hungry?" I asked, keeping my eyes on her face. She smiled back. My eyes automatically trailed back down.

"So very," she answered, leading us toward the stairs. "I didn't actually order anything but coffee when I was at that diner before Jasper found me. I'm starving."

I paused, a warning bell going off in my head.

"You didn't drive the truck here?" I asked quickly, remembering now that there had been no Ford in Jasper's driveway.

Bella stopped on the top stair, her head turning toward me, a confused look on her face.

"No, you called Jasper. He picked me up outside of the diner. I left the truck there for you to--"

_Oh, fuck._

But I only mouthed the word because there was suddenly noise coming from downstairs.

_No, no, no, no, no. Jasper, no._

Bella's head turned back, looking down the stairs in confusion and then back to me. I shook my head, motioning for her to come back up. She quickly turned and followed me as I strode to Jasper's room. In my anxiety over finding Bella, I'd left my gun in the Buick, along with my messenger bag full of weapons, but Jasper would have one somewhere…I practically jumped at his bedside table, pulling open the drawer. I breathed just a little as I pulled out the handgun, checking for bullets.

"You didn't call Jasper?" she whispered weakly from the door.

"I smashed my phone in the alley. I didn't call Jasper."

"But then how…" Bella stopped suddenly, her ears picking up on the sounds from downstairs. Footsteps, heavy ones.

"Isabellllllllllla! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" The deep mocking tone carried clearly up the stairs, wafting into Jasper's room with a very real threat.

I grabbed Bella by the wrist, thrusting her behind me.

But that wouldn't matter, because as we were about to see, the house was already crawling with men dressed in black. A shadow passed across window, and I realized then just how fucked we were.

_I'm sorry._

* * *

**A/N:** Before you freak out, listen to Jasper's words carefully, "Things are not always as they appear." The man is wise: )

Thank you guys for every single one of your awesome reviews/comments, not to mention…all your theories! I love reading them! Keep 'em up by telling me—what the hale is Jasper's deal?

Come along and twitter with me—**xSomah**.

Oh, and...cluless like Edward about Lulu's? Lulu = Lululemon. Best yoga pants of all time, though ridiculously overpriced:) I would live in them if I could. Makes any ass of any size look AMAZING!


	15. Chapter 14 Fate and Hopelessness

**Chapter 14** Fate and Hope(lessness)

* * *

**Edward, 2003.**

"Kid, you want a coffee or anything?"

I glared at the cop in front of me and put my head back down in my hands, scraping one blue Etnie shoe against the glaring shininess of the fleshly waxed floor.

"Got anything stronger?" I smirked at the floor, unsurprised when I heard him walk away, muttering something under his breath about "useless fucking teenagers."

I had been waiting for too long--didn't they realize who I was and what I was ready to do? What I was _going_ to do, with or without their help? The clock was ticking. Their help would be nice, yes--they had access to things I could only dream of incorporating into my plan—but I wasn't going to wait forever. I had shit to do; there were plans to iron out, memories to uphold.

_And I sure as hell don't have to wait around for a funeral to happen._ I felt the new, unfamiliar tightness in my chest and throat squeeze at my insides painfully, and I immediately attempted to block out their screams, the smell of burning flesh, the dancing flames. I ground my palms deeply into my eye sockets.

_You will not close your eyes. You will not close your eyes. You will not clo--_

The sound of rubber soles meeting the spotless sheen of the floor caused my head to snap back up, and though he wasn't who I was waiting for, his appearance captured my attention. He was my age, maybe a year older. His face was weary and bruised, his shaggy blond hair curling slightly behind his grimy ears, and his eyes…they reflected a look I had just barely recognized moments ago in the men's room mirror—a look of quiet desperation that I had thought could only belong to someone who had witnessed the horrors I'd seen. I swallowed thickly as he sat carefully in the vacant chair next to me, my eyes cast down on his shoes. Mud clung to the bottoms, and as I glanced down the hallway, I saw he had left his tracks the entire length of the floor.

What had this boy seen?

We both sat quiet a moment as I took my eyes from the mud and settled them across the hall on the double doors of the conference room--a room that, while it didn't hold all the answers, it did hold my immediate fate.

"What've they got you in here for?" he asked, his tone low. The quiet drawl of his voice calmed me for reasons I didn't understand. I looked over at him, studying his side profile while his eyes stared at the same conference doors.

"They don't have me. I have them." Would my bitterness ever disappear? It didn't matter. I would use it; it would help me.

The boy's face cracked into a half smile, one corner of his mouth lifting momentarily. But he didn't look back over at me or ask anything else. I was pretty sure he understood me exactly-- it was all bullshit--I had no one.

"Revenge," I finally offered. There was something about him.

"Yeah?"

I nodded, my eyes back on the door across from our pathetic plastic orange chairs.

"Me too," he volunteered. We turned to each other at the same moment, sizing the other up. I wanted so badly to ask him about the mud and the bruises. But I didn't. I wouldn't want to have to explain my own appearance—the burn marks, the cuts. The hollowness.

"Whitlock?" questioned a voice. The conference doors had opened, and a man in a navy blue suit and red tie stood looking at us, unsmiling. His eyes swung from the muddy boy, to me, and back again.

"Yeah," replied the blond haired boy.

"They're ready for you." My eyes widened slightly as I watched the man disappear behind those double doors, the boy next to me standing silently to follow. Halfway across the hall, he turned, his cold, icy eyes piercing into mine for the first time. I wondered vaguely how he interpreted what he saw there. I wondered if he was even close.

"Jasper," he spoke, nodding his head slowly, and it took me a moment to realize he was telling me his name.

"E….Edward," I answered, stumbling over my own name. How much longer would I be Edward Masen? Jasper flashed his half smile again and turned back toward the doors. I wondered if they too held his fate.

"Are you scared?" I asked suddenly, my question catching us both off guard. He paused, turning around again slowly, one hand on resting on the door in front of us.

"Shitless," he finally answered, the coldness of his gaze melting slightly as our eyes met. "Good luck, E."

He disappeared through the doors.

**

**Bella. Friday, early.**

The door burst open, bullets flew, I fell forward, and then time stood still.

One second I'm smiling at Edward Masen—a very alive, very beautiful Edward Masen—and the next? I'm face-down on Jasper's surprisingly clean carpet, attempting to cover my head with my suddenly very obviously too small hands, waiting for a bullet to pierce my skin and send me far away from this place.

But my flesh remained un-punctured, and the onslaught ceased.

I'm sure my eyes were wide with shock and horror as I pulled my head up slowly from where Edward had thrown me, his own body only inches away. I watched as he recovered from the initial spray of bullets into the room, climbing quickly to his knees, staying low behind the bed with Jasper's gun clutched close to his body, poised and ready. He glanced over at me, his face full of a determined anger that stopped my blood cold. He spoke quickly, his voice low.

"They're here for you, Bella. And they will fight hard for you. If they take you," his voice tightened on the words, but he continued, "I will kill them. I will find them, I will find you…and I will kill them all."

I didn't like look the in his eyes, the coldness of his voice. There was nothing Edward about it. Decoy had taken over…though given the situation, I wasn't going to complain. Survival was key at the moment.

"Stay here. I'm going to clear the upstairs, I'll be back for you. If you hear anyone, hide, Bella. Don't try to be a hero, just get under the bed. And stay away from the window."

I nodded once, wondering if we could maybe both just climb under the bed together and wait. But wait for what? For Jasper to come home and betray us again? My blood began a slow boil at my naivety, at the trust I had placed in Jasper.

_If I'm pissed, how is Edward feeling?_ I could only assume from the expression on his face moments ago that he had never expected Jasper to sell us out.

Why had he done it? Would we ever know?

I watched Edward slowly creep from our place behind the bed, his every step carefully calculated, until he disappeared from my line of sight. I didn't dare raise my head above mattress level, I was so afraid of what I would see. Instead, one hand groped under the bed, while the other shook uncontrollably at my side.

And then, more shooting. I cringed, waiting to hear the inevitable--waiting to hear Edward's cry of pain, his body thudding to the floor. Instead, the shooting stopped almost as quickly as it had begun, and silence settled heavily over the house. I continued to grope around under the bed, feeling more frantic by the second, and just as my calm façade began to crumble, and a scream bubbled up in my throat, my hand suddenly bumped something hard. I swallowed down the desperate scream and pulled.

A bat--wooden, heavy, and lovely.

A small smile crept across my face as I grasped the bat tightly in my hands. It wasn't a gun. It wasn't a bomb or a Magic-Kill-Everyone-But-Edward-Machine, but I could work with a bat. Edward and his bruised temple knew better than anybody: I could fucking swing.

Silence continued to stretch across the house, lazily taunting me with its quiet knowledge.

I glanced uncertainly at the spot Edward had been occupying only moments ago, gripping the bat more tightly. He'd said he was coming back for me. He had told me to wait. But what if they had shot him? What if he was out in the hallway, bleeding to death? I hesitated a moment longer, giving him more time to show my wild imagination that it was full of shit.

And then, simultaneously, two things happened. Precisely half a second after the silence was disrupted by the sound of bullets in the hall, glass shattered behind me, and legs came swinging through the window. Reacting to a sudden jolt of adrenaline and fear, I stood quickly, readying my body for an attack, completely forgetting about the danger that lay behind me.

The legs belonged to a man with a sharp, pointy knife, a pair of eagle eyes, and a sinister smile. He said nothing as he approached me, a smirk on his ugly face. I grasped my bat, tuned out the shooting from the hall, and waited for the right moment, ignoring the tiny shards of glass falling from my hair. And then, when his body was three steps away from me, I swung. I swung hard and low and struck his right ankle, causing him to stumble sideways, curse words transforming his smirk into a snarl. I didn't hesitate. As he grabbed at his hurt ankle, I swung again, this time aiming at his bent neck and exposed ear.

_Thwack!_

He was completely taken by surprise, and as blood began to trickle from his ear, I hit him one more time.

This one was for Charlie, who had taught thirteen year old me (and I quote), "even if he's all talk, hit him in the cock". I took one step forward for extra momentum, and I swung my bat straight as his crotch.

"You bitch! You fucking bitch! I am going to fucking _kill_ you!"

That was all I needed to hear.

I took off toward the door, my bat still clutched tightly between my hands, ready to hit as many groins as I needed to.

The bullets where no longer flying, and as I stepped out into the hallway, I nearly hit Edward head-on. His strong hands caught me before we could collide, his breathing ragged. He was on his way back for me--his eyes dark, his hair a nest of sweat and tangles, his hands already falling from my shoulders to reload Jasper's gun, an action that looked as natural as breathing on him.

"You're okay," he breathed, running his eyes over my body quickly, assessing any damage. I brushed some glass from my hoodie, but nodded, smiling slightly as Edward's gaze moved to the room behind me, where my attacker lay writhing in agony near Jasper's closet, still screaming about what he was going to do to me.

"What the fu--"

"I'm not sure he'll ever be a father," I responded quickly. For a second Edward gaped at me incredulously. I could feel my cheeks grow warm and averted my eyes, glancing behind him instead, tallying up the body count. While I'd been working on my batting average, Edward had been very busy upping his killing average.

"Now what?" I whispered, my adrenaline beginning to even out, my eyes jumping quickly away from the bodies. Queasy…there it was again, so much more familiar and normal and welcome. Edward, his eyes pulled from the man behind me and now trained carefully on the staircase, pushed me gently across the hall into Jasper's study. I attempted to ignore the dead body sprawled across the large oak computer desk, his blood splattered all over a 24 inch iMac screen.

I wondered randomly if the Apple guy could make a joke out of this.

"I distract them. You climb through the window at the end of the hall." I knew the one he was referring to, I had noticed it earlier. "It's open. There's a large tree next to the house. You'll have to swing over a bit to get to it, but I know you can do it. Once you do, climb down and get to the Buick. Take the keys. There may be men out there, but they won't be watching the tree. They will be focused on the house, the doors. You…handicapped…the only one I could detect out _on_ the house."

I took a breath and glanced down at my bat.

"I don't suppose I can take this with me?"

"No. But you can take this." Edward handed me a gun, glancing at the body on the desk behind me. "He won't miss it."

I shuddered, my eyes glued to the weapon in front of me. Sure, my dad was the police chief of small town Forks, and sure, my ex-boyfriend was apparently a deadly assassin. But that didn't mean I was okay with guns; in fact, I generally loathed them with a burning passion. But this time I decided I could make an exception. Who knew the day would come when I would actually feel grateful that Charlie had vetoed the gymnastics and dance classes because they conflicted with Gun Safety for Teens? I definitely did not see that one coming. I wished he was there to say "I told you so," and, also, to save my life.

"You know how to use one?" he asked quickly, his eyes trained on my face.

"Yes." I clicked off the safety and held the gun loosely in one hand. I could see his surprise, but I didn't need to remind him that we had never actually had the how-familiar-are-you-with-guns conversation five years ago--things would have probably been very different if we had.

"Then go. I'll see you outside."

I nodded. We both had to believe that that's what would happen. I went to follow him, and when he suddenly turned back to me, I nearly smacked into him. I looked up at him, ready to roll my eyes at my clumsiness, when he surprised me and closed the small gap quickly. He reached for me, taking my face in his hands, finding my eyes with his own. Suddenly scared at what could be said, I pressed my forehead against his, closing my eyes briefly. I felt his hand go to my hair, tucking back a wayward strand. I let his warm breath tickle my skin. I didn't open my eyes until I was ready to pull away.

"I'll see you at the Buick." I wasn't going to kiss him. I wasn't going to say good-bye. He nodded, letting go of me, his eyes dark.

"If--if anything does happen, Bella, don't be afraid. They won't hurt you, and I will find you." My adrenaline kicked back into high gear as I followed Edward back out into the hallway, my mind wrapping around his words. It was the second time he'd said that, and I suddenly knew he didn't believe I would make it to the Buick. But before I could contemplate this new knowledge any further, three more men rushed at us from the staircase.

Edward pushed himself completely in front of me, and began firing. I watched in a horrified fascination as one of the three toppled into view, his bloody head bouncing slightly off the carpeted hallway floor. His blank eyes stared at me unblinking. Dead.

"Go, Bella, go now!" Pulling my eyes away from the carnage, I took off at a careful jog for the window at the end of the hall behind me, a bullet hitting the wall to my right, plaster exploding in my periphery.

The window was already open. Edward had obviously checked to see if it could work as an escape route. I had my body half way out the window when I turned to look back at Edward.

Three new bodies were added to the body-count in the hallway. Edward was already at the top of the stairs, his eyes and gun pointed down the narrow staircase. He must have felt my eyes on him because he glanced back at me. I didn't miss the way his eyes changed from coldblooded killer to worried…friend? I pulled my gun up to my head and saluted him, giving him one last encouraging smile before I turned and glanced at what I was about to face. The tree wasn't too far away--I knew I could make the jump. With everything that had happened in the past week, this tree was the least of my worries. I perched myself on the edge of the window sill, swung my legs a little, and then just…catapulted myself forward using my hands to push forward from the ledge. I hit the tree hard, and I knew the branch was going to leave one hell of a mark--but I made it and took a celebratory moment to catch my breath, clinging tightly to the trunk. As my breathing slowed, I swung my eyes lower and saw the front yard was void of scary men in black with guns. My eyes moved on to the Buick. It was parked away further than I had hoped, but I knew it was now or never--Edward was probably shooting up a storm as I sat there, hesitating.

I griped the tree, the gun tucked snugly in the waistband of my yoga pants, and allowed myself to scrape down the trunk. Once my feet found the firmness of the earth, I pulled out the gun, made another quick assessment of my position, swallowed my fright, and then dashed to the car, Edward's keys in my left hand, poised and ready.

I slid behind the car, keeping myself hidden from view of the house, and wondered frantically how Jasper's neighbors could be so damn clueless. Or maybe they were paid not to talk. The thought had me shivering as I fumbled with the keys.

I didn't even hear him approach.

"Awww, so close to freedom, you could almost taste it," said a gravelly voice behind me. Before I could react, fabric was pushed down over my head and my hands were grabbed roughly behind my back, my gun yanked easily from my grip. I was shoved forward and was sure I was going to fall to the ground, but instead my knees hit something hard, and buckled forward. It wasn't the pavement that met my stomach, no. My body fell only a few inches before hitting the hard surface of what I could only assume was the inside of a vehicle.

As I yelled and squirmed, I was shoved further into this vehicle until I heard a slam behind me.

I rolled to my back quickly, attempting to sit up, but I couldn't--there wasn't enough space. In fact, space was very, very limited, I discovered as I ran my hands along the confines of my prison.

And then I clued it. I wasn't in the back of a truck or van…no, I was locked up firmly in the trunk of a car. The Buick.

I didn't realize it was me screaming until I had to stop to breathe.

**

**Bella. Friday, late.**

I didn't know I had the ability to fall asleep sitting down, back against a cold wall, ass on hard concrete--but that's exactly how I found myself when I came to. Maybe falling asleep was the wrong choice of words. I was pretty sure the goose-egg on the side of my head would argue against having had a vote in the matter. No, I had not fallen asleep…I had been knocked unconscious.

I groaned as quietly as I could, rubbing the side of my face delicately, the egg sized swell throbbing beneath my fingers, a sticky liquid already drying into my hair.

I was a mess.

They had taken me and literally thrown me into a tiny concrete room, complete with a mattress on the unwashed floor and a metal toilet in the corner. I sat against the far wall, my eyes trained on the door across from me. There was a small rectangular window toward the top, and a small slot near the bottom, room enough for a tray with food to pass through.

I had arrived at this mystery location hours ago—though how many hours ago, I didn't know. I had been shrouded in darkness for so long, my concept of time was completely screwed up. When they had finally opened the trunk of the car and pulled me out, I had come to a decision: I was not going to let them see my cry, and I was not going to let them see that I was scared shitless. So when I was pushed into a building, into an elevator, and finally, onto a concrete floor, I felt my panic rising, and terror sinking in, but I did not allow myself to show any of it.

When the black fabric was yanked from my head and I struggled to focus my light sensitive eyes, I did not scream when orange hair and a smirking face filled my vision. Nor did I make a sound when something connected with the side of my face, and I was knocked against the concrete wall and into unconsciousness.

But with that last one, there was nothing brave about it. I just hadn't had time to scream.

Now there I was, waiting, without a clue that the next event would test my resolve to the extreme.

The door was unlocked and pulled open some time later. My head had begun to loll on my neck, but my tired eyes remained fixed on the door. When voices outside alerted me that someone was about to enter, I straightened my head and back, hands fisting at my sides.

He entered my "room" with a look of disgust on his face, his eyes skirting the walls quickly, until they finally settled on my face. He was tall and built, yet ancient looking. His hair was graying and his cheeks sunken, but there was something in his eyes that told me this man was no old fool.

"Hello, Isabella. You have been a hard target to capture," he spoke slowly but quietly, his deep voice reverberating ever so slightly from the concrete walls. I said nothing, continuing to look up at him, unflinching.

"I see Victoria had her moment with you. I apologize for that, but you won't have to worry about her again. I promised her that moment, but that is all she gets."

Victoria. I searched my mind for a Victoria, but came up blank. Until, that is, I realized where he was staring. The goose-egg on my face. That flaming orange hair--Victoria. She knocked me out. But…why? My head was muddled, and I didn't really understand anything.

"Why am I here?" I asked finally, after growing uncomfortable under his stare.

"Ah yes. It's a complicated mess, from what I know, and it has turned into an even bigger mess then it was supposed to. Your…friend has killed more of my men than I wish to remember."

"And your people killed Seth!" I spat back, my eyes flashing with a renewed hatred. The man's mouth twitched as though he wanted to laugh at me.

"One life is nothing, dear one. Not in this world. Do you know how many lives your Decoy has taken? Dare you even guess?"

I shook my head, lowering my eyes and put a hand to my wound.

"What's going to happen to me?" I asked quietly.

"My dear, your fate has not yet been determined, but the outlook is not good. There is much anger and bitterness directed at Decoy by a certain enemy. His enemy has been doing much research lately and has come to the conclusion that you are the one thing Decoy values most in his miserable little life. This enemy believes that your death will be the revenge it has always looked for."

I squeezed my eyes shut at that, choking back the fear that threatened to consume me.

"Now, nothing is certain, Isabella. You came into my home with a black bag over your head. That very act signifies you may one day leave my house again—alive. Had you no bag, you would have no chance. Oh, but let me not give you hope…it is futile to put stock in such things. You will most likely die here, and not without pain beforehand."

I swallowed a reflexive whimper. He was really quite horrible at cheering a person up.

"I am Aro, young Isabella, and you will most likely not see me again unless you cause my people problems. You do not want to ever have to see me again." He turned to leave, the door opening for him from the outside.

"How can you—how can you get away with this?" I demanded, struggling to my feet, desperate for something more. Aro turned back to me, pulling his black robe tightly around his shoulders, superiority written across his face.

"Simple, Isabella. We have created fear in this town. We control this town; don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise. The authorities are an illusion, my dear, an illusion we allow to exist for the sanity of the citizens. But we control everything. Everyone."

I swallowed the hopelessness and fought.

"Everyone? Then make this person stop! Don't let them kill me, don't let them hurt Decoy!" It was a last ditch effort on my part, yes, but I thought maybe, just maybe, there was a twinge of something good in this man.

"Even if a plea from a woman I don't know regarding the happiness of a man who has killed many of my own _could_ have an effect on me, this just isn't my fight. This one runs deep through Decoy's enemy's veins. Besides, this person once worked very closely with me. I couldn't deny the taste of revenge, even if it's not a fair one," And with that, he turned once more and left the tiny room.

I had to lunge for the metal toilet as the meager contents of my stomach blazed up my throat and into the receptacle in front of me. Tears burned at the edges of my eyes, but I shook my head, refusing to ignite a fire that could consume me.

_Don't be afraid._

I wiped the sweat from my face, and flushed the toilet. I crawled back to my spot on the wall and curled up, my eyes fixed on the single door, awaiting news of my fate.

**

**Edward. Friday morning.**

The bodies piled around me, but she was gone.

I had known we stood no chance, but I had to try. Still, it wasn't any less painful when they suddenly stopped fighting and retreated, leaving me to see for myself that they had won the round. But I would win the war, and it was going to be a bloodbath.

I turned in the direction of the only place I knew to go. I needed backup, and Jasper no longer existed to me. A familiar pain shot through my chest at his betrayal, but I would squelch that like so many others feelings before.

I should have known better than to trust anyone--it was my own fucking fault for letting him in. As I walked to a main road, arm extended for a taxi, I suddenly wondered what had been behind those doors for Jasper, all those years ago. What had been his fate?

He had gone in muddy, bruised and empty. What had happened to him on the other side, and who had come out?

* * *

**A/N:** Because it's Thanksgiving in Canada, I just want to stop a moment and give a few heartfelt thank-you's. Thanks to Twilightzoner for taking the time to read through my chapters and catch my silly mistakes, to Sublynice who is amazing, is constantly saying great things about Détruit, and leaves such thoughtful reviews. To Michellephants who I miss terribly, thanks for everything you've done for this little story. And huge thank-yous go out to the ladies over at the Indie Twi Awards, to TLYDF for just being wonderful, The Fictonators for their great write-up, The Gazebo cause you guys make me laugh every single day, to everyone that twitters with me (xSomah), to those comms that I keep learning about through my readers, and OBVIOUSLY, to each and every person who takes time out to read my this fic and to those who go one step further and review. I heart you all. Thank you all for inspiring me.

That kind of felt like an acceptance speech.

Oh. And Bella will see Aro again.


	16. Chapter 15 Grey

**A/N:** As always, thanks to the superest-of-duperest betas, twilightzoner. Your eagle-eyes humble me!

**Chapter 15--Grey**

* * *

**Edward. Friday afternoon.**

"You knew my parents." My gaze did not waver as I refused the chair in front of his desk, trying to push the astonishment of what I had just done from my thoughts. Getting into the district office wasn't supposed to be so easy, considering my face was on their wanted list. Was security slipping or was I truly that stealthy? I was leaning towards the first option, given my track record lately. I shifted slightly, fixing my eyes resolutely across the wide desk—the wide desk that, I suddenly realized, was the same one I fidgeted across from nervously over six years ago. There was a different Boss behind it and my purpose wasn't the same, but it was unmistakable…the desk had not changed.

"I did." The Boss nodded, his tone neutral, as though random angry people bursting into his office was not an unusual occurrence. Behind me, his assistant fluttered nervously, probably appalled that I'd been able to push past him so easily. And probably also freaked the hell out what that meant for his job. People were not supposed to be able to just walk into The Boss's office unannounced.

Security had not been as tight back when I'd made my first trip through those double doors and into this office, yet the man holding my fate was just as intimidating—this time though, my face was a mask of calm.

"No, Paul, he's fine. Put the phone down. Call off the men downstairs. Nobody touches this agent. Not while he's in my building."

I didn't turn, but I heard the door click closed behind me.

"Tell me what really happened to them. Tell me why someone is setting me up. Tell me why they want Bella."

"What makes you think I can answer any of those questions?" The man behind the desk settled back in his deep leather chair, pressing his right fingertips against his left and fixing me with an even look.

"Because someone has to know what the hell is going on! What the fuck do these people want from me?" My fuse was unsurprisingly short, and I banged my fist down onto his desk, rattling his coffee mug--although the clear liquid that spilled out was definitely not coffee. The Boss didn't even flinch. He continued to stare at me, his eyes thoughtful, unconcerned. I felt my bravado begin to crumble and my face crack. I took a breath.

"Because I have nowhere else to go, no one else to trust, and nothing else to lose," I finally conceded, the fight leaving me, my shoulders slumping. "They have Bella, and I have no idea where they have her. If nothing else, I need you to tell me where I can find Aro Volturi."

He considered me for a moment, still completely unfazed.

"A lot has happened to you since you found your way into my office last Tuesday. You made your way onto our wanted list. But you didn't shoot Agent Clearwater, did you?"

I shook my head "no", remaining silent. I had a feeling The Boss wanted to do this his way.

"How do you think this is connected to your parents? Why do you think someone is after you?" He asked the questions as though they were merely a formality--he didn't seem to be very interested in the answers.

"I don't know," I replied with a deep sigh, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk without having been invited. "But they know—they know things about me from before."

The Boss nodded slowly, thoughtfully. He had made it obvious that he had known who I was last time I had visited.

"And so do you. I need to know how you know my parents, how you know me." I leveled him a look that I hoped spoke not of desperation, but of a long aching desolation that told my story.

"Do you remember me, Decoy? The night you came in here after your parents died and you spoke to the old commissioner, do you remember seeing me?"

I leaned back in my chair, confused.

"No. I—I don't. I was pretty focused on one thing only that day."

I watched as the man in front of me nodded, his eyes fixed on the wall behind me.

"You were a mess. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, did you? You signed all the papers. You agreed to everything they said. But you had no fucking clue what you had gotten yourself into. I knew they would do that to you, I knew they'd take advantage, but I didn't know who the bad guys were, I didn't know who was corrupt. I couldn't stop them, I had nothing."

I remained silent, struggling to make sense of what he was saying.

"Well, that's not exactly true. I had one thing, and I gave that to you. It was the only thing I could do, the only thing they wouldn't suspect." I watched as his eyes glazed over, lost in a memory. I was itching to question him, to shake out the answers one by one, but I gritted my teeth and remained silent, waiting.

"I'd promised them, fuck, but I thought I'd do better from afar. I thought I could pull the strings and watch my promise be kept…but they were good. They kept hidden for a very long time. I hate to think I failed, Decoy." At my code name, his eyes snapped back to my face, and he sat back again, staring at me silently. Then, without a word to me, he picked up his blackberry and began typing something into the keypad. I bit the inside of my lip as I watched his nimble fingers fly across the small keyboard.

A minute later he stopped typing and looked up at me.

"You want answers. You want Bella Swan. Which do you want more?"

I didn't have to hesitate.

"Bella Swan."

It may have been the wrong choice, I knew that. The answers he could potentially offer me may have provided me with everything I needed to know about who was after me. His mutterings had just brought up more confusion and more questions.

And yet, Bella was the only answer.

If The Boss was surprised, he didn't show it. But then, he didn't show much. He had cards, I knew he must, but he was keeping them very close to his chest.

"You'll need Jonze for this. He knows where Aro hides out. He's our main vein to the Volturi—he's also a man who knows how to talk his way out of almost anything. If anyone, he can get your Bella back." The Boss glanced down at his cell phone and nodded. "He will meet you in the parking lot of the packing district. He will have weapons."

I hesitated. There was something more, something I knew I should ask. But I couldn't quite pin it down, so I got up.

"Are they going to come after me when I leave the building?" I asked, an edge to my voice.

"No. You're safe." I opened the door, still hesitant.

"Thanks," I muttered as his assistant, Paul, rushed at me from the other side, a dark glare firmly in place. I ducked out of his office, almost missing his last words.

"I should have done it sooner, should have known." And then his assistant pushed past me.

"Sir, I'm sorry sir, I didn't—he came out nowhere…"

"Paul, it's fine. Get Whitlock on the line. Now. Right fucking now."

I rounded a corner, already mentally so many miles away that I didn't register those last words until much later.

***

**Bella. Saturday.**

Grey.

I was so sick of seeing the color grey. Grey walls encased me, under a grey ceiling. I sat on a grey mattress beside a grey pillow, with grey food in front of me. And, when I couldn't hold it anymore, I peed in a grey metal toilet. It was enough to make any _sane _person plead insanity, just to get out of this grey colored hell in return for a hopefully brightly colored insane asylum.

As I pushed away my untouched plate of grey food (grey mashed potatoes, grey peas, and some sort of grayish blob, spam perhaps, that could have only come from a can), I groggily contemplated what day it could possibly be, and how many times Charlie would have to call my un-answering cell phone before he would really worry. We had never had an overly communicative relationship, but we generally were in touch once a week by phone, although never on a schedule. It wasn't out of the ordinary for two or three weeks to fly by.

How many days had gone by since I'd left for Dr. Gleason's apartment? A week? More? I wasn't sure.

I slid the tray toward the door and curled up on my right side, not daring to turn my back to the door for even a second. I had to stay alert and prepared. Prepared for what, I wasn't sure. But I wasn't going to allow sleep to steal any opportunities for knowledge. As I fastened my eyes to the grey door, I felt something poke into my side, near my hip. Puzzled, I reached between my body and the mattress but found nothing.

_Oh, right._ I remembered then, the cylindrical bottle of pills in the pocket of my hoodie, taken from Edward's medicine cabinet. I was pretty sure there were no cameras in the tiny room, but I didn't want to risk taking out the bottle of pills—I was shocked enough as it was that they had not patted me down and found the bottle upon my arrival. I had originally taken them thinking they may prove useful eventually, but I had never, ever considered a situation like this.

What could those tiny pills do in a place like this? Patting the pocket conspiratorially, I turned my attention back to the door and nearly screamed when it suddenly burst open.

I bolted from the mattress on the floor over to the far wall, pushing my back flush against the concrete and blinking back the dizziness that swirled behind my eyelids from the sudden movement. My muscles screamed in defiance and I realized I had already made one large mistake—I had not been moving myself around my small grey prison to exercise my joints; I wasn't ready to move at a moment's notice. I would have to mentally kick myself later—right now, my attention had to be focused elsewhere. As the dizziness cleared, I watched as two men entered the room, each with a face covered mostly by black material ending just below a pair of eyes. I was immediately wary and slid my back up the wall, putting myself in a standing position.

Without even a word, the man in the lead grabbed my right wrist and pulled me skillfully forward, quickly twisting my wrist around and positioning himself behind me. I stumbled when he pushed me forward, completely taken off guard by the slickness of his actions--I barely had time to register what was happening. The man near the door smirked at me, opening the door wide as the man behind pushed me through.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, attempting to keep my voice low and level. Instead, fear squeaked out, and I tried to push Aro's words from my mind. But they wouldn't budge, having taunted me mercilessly for the past several—hours...days? I didn't know, but I did know they held a power over me.

"_You will most likely die here, and not without pain beforehand."_

Was this to be the fear part? Or the death part? Or both? I attempted to drag my feet, stalling whatever was about to happen, my heartbeat leading the way in panic as my breathing caught up.

They pushed me down the narrow, grey hallway, one man now on each side of me—and I realized I should be taking note of everything around me. Maybe it would come in handy in the future. To both my right and left, I was able to see doors that looked much like my own--a dark shade of grey, metal with a window and a small slot for food at the bottom. I wondered who else they held captive in this Prison of Grey.

At the end of the hallway and to the left, we reached a set of concrete stairs. I found myself looking at a platform that led both upward and down. We went up, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Dungeons and torture devices are always kept in the basement, right?

Right?

Upstairs, things were different. As we pushed through some heavy metal doors that required a pass code (shit), the atmosphere changed. Gone were the grey walls and feelings of hopelessness. I began to wonder if they were going to let me go. My pulse skipped a beat at the thought. And then I realized they hadn't put the bag over my head, and my heart plummeted back down to my stomach. Aro had spoken of the black hood as though it was a good thing, as though my chances of survival were high if I was encased in black fabric. Well, there was certainly none of that now, and I was suddenly terrified of what that meant. I tried to distract myself from that thought by continuing to observe, though more subtly than before.

The doors were wider, I noticed, and each painted in different bright colors. My eyes rejoiced at the splashes of reds and yellows, happy they weren't going to die with grey etched on their retinas. One door was actually open and as we strode on by I caught a fleeting glimpse of its insides. A bed, large and comfortable looking, an armchair and a large window draped in purple fabric. Food next to the bed, decadent and rich; this was no prisoner food. And also, medicine bottles and medical supplies.

What the hell? A hospital for dangerously deranged killers?

"Keep your eyes straight ahead," ordered the man to my left, snarling at me as I craned my neck to get one last glance. I turned my head forward slowly, acting like he wasn't scaring me. He glared at me, and my heart cowered--and I did as I was told. Half-way down that hall, we turned left and went through double doors, also metal…though no keypad for a code, I noticed. The hallway narrowed out again, and I instantly missed the bright splashes of life from the last hall. We finally stopped at the third door on the right. The man on my right stepped forward, letting go off my arm, and opened the door. I was thrust forward into the dark room by the man to my left and my feet wanted to trip, but my arm was grabbed, and I was roughly guided further into the dark room. I couldn't see a thing.

"Sit," commanded one of the men. I could no longer keep track of them in the dark, and it frightened me. I hesitated, wondering what I was going to be sitting on…if anything.

"Sit!" The order was dangerously harsh this time, so I bent my knees quickly and felt the firmness of a chair beneath me, causing me to mentally sigh in relief. I heard scuffling noises and saw the men's outlines near the door, leaving, shutting the door firmly behind them.

_Click_. Locked in—I wasn't the least bit surprised. Not until a small light flickered on in front of me, illuminating a face I instantly recognized.

They had locked me in with Victoria, the woman who had knocked me unconscious for reasons unknown. The woman who, according to Aro, wasn't supposed to be bothering me again. I shivered as flame from the match lazily flicked light across her face, exposing a diabolical smile.

"Hello there, Isabella Swan. You're up and conscious again--so different from how I left you." I saw her smirk while she bent forward, touching the tip of the match to something in front of her. Instantly, a candle leapt to life, and then another, followed by two more as she spread the licking heat around the table between us. I shifted back in my chair, truly frightened now, as she bent closer to me.

"Aro probably told you I wouldn't be bothering you again, didn't he? Otherwise, you wouldn't look quite so scared shitless." She snickered and watched as the match sputtered and singed at her fingers, taking one last graceful jump at her skin, looking to burn. But she didn't seem to care. Or, she could no longer feel the pain.

She threw the smoking match to the floor and reached for something to her left. An apple, I realized, squinting slightly.

Where was this going and what would be left of me?

I watched as she pulled out a long silver object from somewhere beneath the table_. A knife, great._ She smirked at me and began cutting chunks from the apple, slipping each freshly sliced crunchy piece between her lips and into her mouth, her chewing slow and deliberate.

The silence was unnerving, and I wanted so badly to break it. But I also realized that that's exactly what she wanted. She wanted to break me, and I was not going to give her the satisfaction. I could play the quiet game better than most, after years of having to force myself not to be quiet. Determined, I pressed my lips together but could not tear away my open stare.

"Isssabella Swan. Bella. James always called you Bella and it drove me mad. He had a thing for you, you know."

_James._

I let the name sink in, but I didn't know where she was pulling it from. _James_. Who the hell was James? But instead of voicing my confusion, I continued to watch her in silence, lips firmly closed.

She sliced into the apple, smoothly cutting out yet another bite before popping it into her mouth, her full lips dancing.

"Yeah. He always had a thing for younger women." She smirked at me, pulling her knife up and using the point to tuck back a strand of orange hair from her face. I watched carefully as she turned the blade at the last moment, almost cutting the skin near her ear. "That's how I first drew his attention, though I was beginning to think that lately, I just wasn't young enough for him anymore. Not when he started talking about you."

Younger women. James. My muddled brain continued to sludge through the haziness that threatened it, attempting to slide the proper pieces into their places. I was certainly not at my sharpest. I was going to have to fix that.

"It was only in the last week or so that I realized what he was going to do with you. He gave you that god-damn article to research. He thought it was all so fucking hilarious to assign you to that fucking article, given his own position." Victoria smirked again, and I found in that pause the knowledge I had been searching for. She was talking about Gleason. Dead Dr. Gleason. They had been…together? What had Gleason had to do with the Volturi?

"He knew very well he was being used in a dirty game. Aro had commissioned him to work this one—promising him complete protection from the Volturi if he did as he was told. James needed that protection--we all knew he was dangerously close to having everything he'd done in the past few years come out…and there would go the reputation he'd been building. Gone. So he and Aro cut a deal. Naïve James had no idea what the hell he had gotten himself into, it had been a blind trade. He had no idea that Aro had set him up. I didn't know either." Victoria frowned at that, slicing a little too hard into her apple. She pulled her finger back, and I saw blood shining in the flickering light of the candle.

"Aro had no intention of allowing him to live."

I watched, fascinated, as a single tear fell from her eye and tracked its way down her face, bumping its way across her lips and down her chin.

I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

But as I watched the tear disappear into the cotton of her shirt, she lunged at me, a snarl transforming her sadness into fury. The knife in her hand flew to my throat, and I was suddenly gasping for breath as I tried to struggle, the knife pressing into my flesh the more I moved.

"And this is all because of you and your fucking boyfriend." She spat the words at me, tracing the knife from my throat and slowly up my cheekbone. With just a bit more pressure, she would be puncturing my skin. I kept still, breathing rapidly through my nose, my eyes wide as I watched her expression.

She was dangerous. Could I talk her down or would I only make it worse?

"That night? He was going to drug you. He'd figured out the whole thing centered somehow around you. So he was going to drug you and deliver you to Aro himself, thinking he'd be scoring major points--little did he know at the time that that was not at all what Aro wanted. What James didn't realize was that his death was the key to this whole fucking thing. But had your boyfriend not come in and shot him, he at least would still be alive. On the run from the Volturi, yes. But still, alive."

"I'm sorry, Victoria, I truly am so sorry for you. Dr. G—James, he was an incredible professor." My voice didn't come out as strong as I had hoped-- I had to talk around the panic, but my comment allowed Victoria to relax the knife from my cheek, her focus elsewhere.

"I didn't find out until it was too late. I didn't need to go up to his apartment to know he was dead…the surrounding cops said it all. So instead, I ran your fucking truck right into ongoing traffic." Her smirk was back, but her knife stayed put…for the moment.

"The yellow mustang. That was you." I knew I was stating the obvious, but I had to keep talking. It was, of course, the same mustang that had confronted Edward and me days ago.

"I'd hoped you were dead, but Aro made it clear that you were still very much alive when he found out what I'd done. He told me how lucky I was that you survived." Bitterness cloaked her voice, and I blinked my eyes quickly, hesitant to say anything that would add fuel to her hatred.

"But he's not here now, and though I can't kill you, I can at least make you feel pain...." She trailed off, pressing the blade into my skin sharply. I gasped in surprise as she slashed the silver knife down my cheekbone in one quick swipe. My hand automatically found its way up to my face at the same time she leaned over me, knife aiming for the other side of my face.

I didn't hear the door open, my choked gasps blocking out the noise around me as I prepared to feel the cold metal strike me again. But I did feel Victoria pause and turn.

"What?" she demanded to someone at the door. I pressed my hand harder to my cheek, feeling the dented mark in my skin and the blood between my fingers. I shuddered and leaned forward, trying not to throw up.

"Aro calls for you."

"I'm busy," she snarled back.

"He wants you now, Victoria. Go. I'll take the girl back."

I felt her turn back to me, but I didn't lift myself from where I sat slumped over.

"Maybe now you can get a slight idea of the pain I feel every fucking second of every fucking day," she hissed at me, shoving my chair back. The legs squeaked against the floor in protest. "Except multiply that by a million and place that feeling in your heart. I'll be seeing you later, Swan."

And she was gone, the candles flickering angrily at her departure. I kept my head bent low, the physical pain not nearly as numbing as the internal.

She didn't know. I'd already experienced exactly what she was talking about. Every single minute, of every single hour, for so many years.

_Maybe we're more alike than either of us realized_. The very thought only made the shaking worse.

I felt the hesitation of a presence near the door, and I finally pulled my head back up, my hand still covering the long wound on my face. It wasn't too deep, I could tell it was more surface than anything, but there was still a lot of blood, and I felt it seeping from between my fingers.

The person at the door finally stepped into the room, and I could suddenly see him clearly. I knew that face, those wide-set eyes, the olive skin and dark hair.

"Jared?" I questioned, my pulse accelerating. What did this mean? Why was Jared, one of Edward's comrades from Jonze's organization, here with me? Here in the Prison of Grey?

"Don't look at me like that," he muttered, avoiding my eyes and blowing out the candles.

"Why…what are you doing here?" The room fell into darkness as the smell of smoke filled the air.

"I'm here to bring you back to your room. Don't get any ideas."

"But I thought--" I paused as his presence hit me. "Shit. Jared, _you_ were the mole? You…you told the Volturi where the safe-house was." It wasn't even a question. I knew I was right. My mind played back his attitude the night he and Seth had taken me to the cabin. It explained so much. And yet…

"It's not that easy. Life isn't as cut and paste and picture-perfect as you think it is, Bella."

"Don't you tell me anything about life, Jared. You know you killed Embry and Seth?" I couldn't see him, but I felt him come around my chair and push me to my feet.

He laughed humorlessly and pushed me forward.

"You're not as clever as you think you are. Walk," he ordered. I followed his directions, this new information spreading quickly through me.

And yet…

"Jasper," I said out loud. That meant that Jasper wasn't the mole. At least, not the mole we'd thought he was. How the hell is Jasper involved in all of this? What part did he play? My mind whirled as Jared took my arm, the one that was not holding my face, and led me through the first set of metal doors. I glanced around me as we started our way down the colorful, warm hallway wondering if this would be the last time I would have a chance. What if the next time Victoria decided to pay me a visit, I was left much less…whole?

I couldn't go back to the Grey, I knew that now.

I stopped, pulling my arm free of Jared's grasp, and put it firmly against my other hand, pressing them both into my face. I staggered a bit, groaning.

"What the hell? What's wrong with you?"

"I think—I feel faint. I need something to stop the bleeding," I replied, wondering if I really had the guts to do this. But I was desperate.

_Where, where, where?_ I opened my eyes from where I had doubled over and studied the hallway. I only had one choice, and it stood near the end of opposite end of the hallway…a huge set of double doors marked "Exit". I had to try. I couldn't afford to let Victoria get a hold of me again, and I couldn't allow myself to waste away in the cell, waiting for my verdict.

Jared had stopped to take off his shirt, probably intending to give it to me to put against my face. As the shirt went over his head and he was momentarily sightless, I dashed to make my escape.

I sprinted forward, praying for one minute of pure athleticism, and lowered my hands from my face speeding toward the exit door. I could sense my pulse pumping strongly through the wound on my face, but I ignored the pulsating and moved quickly. I pushed against the door just as Jared finally kicked into gear, and was through safely before he could even shout a word. On the other side, I saw I was in luck--I bolted the door and turned to see where I was, ignoring Jared's fists pounding on the other side.

Another hallway, filled with more colors. This one branched off in multiple directions.

I ran, turning where I could, back-tracking when I met a dead-end, expecting Jared and other Volturi members to burst after me at any second. But the quiet remained, and I couldn't help but wonder--where was everyone? I hadn't run into a single soul.

I felt as though I was a rat running a maze. I wondered vaguely if I was some part of a social experiment. Were they watching me on video cameras, laughing at my stupidity? I pushed the thought aside and continued to run through hallway after hallway until things began to get familiar again. I had just passed that painting--had I not?

I was going in circles. Jared was not chasing me. I had chosen the wrong door—was I trapped in this mess of mazes? I took a few more steps, pondering. Had I chosen the wrong door? Maybe I wasn't thinking this through, this couldn't be the end. I glanced around desperately when a thought struck me.

What exactly was inside these rooms? I turned to a doorknob and pushed it open quickly, kicking it with my foot, copying the way I had seen Edward enter an unfamiliar room.

A bed, a dresser. No window. Color. But otherwise, empty. I turned to the door across the hall, hoping the rooms on the other side of the hall shared a wall with the outside world.

I turned the knob quickly and kicked the door open, my eyes sweeping the room for windows. My adrenaline kicked into high gear when I spotted a small window on the back wall. I took a step into the room before I even noticed there was someone already there, lying on a bed. I immediately stepped back towards the door, ready to flee, when his head turned toward me and I got a closer look.

I couldn't stop the strangled cry that escaped from between my parted lips, nor could I take back the single sob that followed--and hell, did I ever want to take it back.

I had been tricked; Edward was being played. The public thought he was dead, but there he was, quickly struggling to sit up as he recognized me.

Because Seth Clearwater's face looked nothing but guilty.

* * *

**A/N:** What? WHAT?

So things are beginning to really unravel. Next chapter will be full of it (revelations, that is). Jasper's intentions will become very clear. Bad guys and good guys will be known. So stay tuned. But first, tell me some last minute theories before I blow this crazy story up. Some of you have come close, some of you are so far off it makes me laugh...but I love hearing 'em all. I tried my best to get back to the majority of you after last chapters reviews, THANK YOU all for leaving me your love! Oh, and welcome, new readers! This fic must have been newly recc'ed somewhere, because there are a whole new slew of you. Come and say hi:)


	17. Chapter 16 Real World

Chapter 16 Real World

* * *

**Bella. Saturday.**

One foot planted firmly in the room, the other foot poised to run out, I stared at the betrayal in front of me. Seth's struggling stopped as quickly as it had begun.

"Bella! No, Bella, this isn't…shit." Seth let out a string of nonsensical words, ending with a colorful expletive, his eyes brimming with fire and frustration. But still, even with all that passion pouring forth, he didn't move from his prone position on the bed--in fact, he remained impressively motionless. I took a step back into the room, my fists finding the edge of each hip, angry tears of betrayal forming in the corner of my eyes.

"Bella, listen to me. I can't…I know you're pissed. I'll explain. But I need you to calm down right now and walk toward the bed. Smile at me."

_What?_

Already halfway to his bed and ready to show him just how pissed I was, I paused, my forehead creasing in confusion, my resolve wavering.

"Smile, Bella." He was begging. "Bella, smile, please. Or they will be here in a matter of seconds."

I didn't like the way he said _they_, as though he was denying any association with--any responsibility for-- _them_ whatsoever. I wanted to correct him and say, "You mean _your people_?"

Instead, I opted for a different approach.

"Is this another set up, Seth? Because I am sick and fucking tired of set-ups. And I may not look tough, but I can punch. Hard." My voice sounded as flat as I'd hoped.

"It's complicated. Smile at me, and I'll explain what I can." His face was calm now, almost conspiringly sly. There was something there that I trusted, though I hated the feeling because I didn't understand it.

I smiled against my better judgment, gritting my teeth and narrowing my eyes. I was betting I didn't look too sincere.

"Now, walk over to the bed. Quick, Bella. They're watching, but they can't hear us." I took a step forward, blinking at his words.

"Where?" I asked, my smile firmly in place, my eyes steady on Seth's face. The bruises I'd seen days ago were less black and more yellow. He was healing and I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

"In the corner, near the window. Don't look up, Bella or we're both fucked." I fought my natural reaction and kept my eyes trained on the man in front of me. _Man?_ He looked more like a boy, disheveled and trustworthy.

"I'm not sure I care if you get fucked, Seth. What the hell is going on? You're supposed to be dead."

"Closer, Bella. And try not to be too disappointed." He answered me dryly, a spark of the person I'd once known peeking through the cuts and bandages and deception.

I took another step, stopping only inches from Seth's bed. He looked at me a moment, his face falling.

"Victoria got to you."

I didn't have to answer. It wasn't a question.

"I did a real shit job of protecting you." His eyes genuinely looked sad, and I felt my heartstrings tighten.

"That's what happens when you're playing for the wrong side, Seth."

"I'm not sure there's a right side, Bella. That's what I need to tell you. The night you and Decoy came to me in the hospital…after he left, Aro's men came for me. They set the scene, pulled a gun…shot a fucking pillow, shot my fucking arm, and pulled me out of there. Framed Decoy, I later learned. All because they thought I knew too fucking much. Turned out, I knew nothing but my suspicions, Bella."

"Suspicions about the safe-house?"

"About everything. Thought I knew about Jared's betrayal. About what the fuck is going on around here."

"Do you?"

Bitter laughter tip-toed quietly from his sneering lips, his face showing no amusement.

"There's a shit show going on. But I still don't know who the director is. It's not Aro, he's just having fun indulging someone. The lines between good and evil are blurred right now, Bella."

"What have you been—"

"Bella, we don't have a lot of time. They can't see my face from where they are, but they could be reading your lips…I don't fucking know. I've been attempting to play my own game since I've been here, but hell…there are no fucking rules. I know they want you and Decoy. Badly. They also have my…" Seth paused and swallowed thickly, shaking his head. "Everything I've done, Bella, has been to help you. But now, they have made it even more personal for me."

"Seth, what are you saying?"

"Just remember Bella, they punch below the belt. We have to punch back. We have to beat them at their own fucking game."

"But who the hell _are_ they?" I demanded, frustrated with the all the cryptic talk.

"Aro's helping; he pulls the strings in here. But the ringleader? I'm here, doing this, to find out."

And with those last words, Seth suddenly sprung from his bed like he'd never been shot, pushing me roughly to the floor. He landed solidly beside me, already grabbing at something from his clothing, thrusting it at me.

"Hide this. You're going to need it."

I grasped the object he thrust at me, blinking rapidly to register its shape and size. It fit in my palm, warm in my icy hands.

A gun. I quickly rolled to my back and shoved the gun into my waistband. Seth watched, his eyes narrowed, then reached to pull my shirt hem low, covering the shiny weapon easily. He took my hand and pulled me close to him.

"I'm sorry for everything that I have to do, Bella. But I—I like you, and I owe Decoy. I want you both to live." And with that, he grabbed the neckline of my hoodie and hauled me up from the floor, his boyish face transforming from an apologetic grimace into a cruel sneer I didn't recognize. He pushed me hard toward the far wall, my back hitting with a resounding _thud_.

Eyes wide, I could only watch as Seth approached me, looking more like a famished territorial lion than a trusted loyal dog. I swallowed hard and suddenly wondered which Seth was real.

Which Seth is acting? Which Seth do I trust?

The venomous ferocity of his eyes left me feeling doubtful of his actions, but I felt the gun barely touching my hip bone, and I took a quick breath, closing my eyes against Seth's stalking approach.

"They're testing me," he spat, his frame close now.

It's for the camera. It's part if the game--he wouldn't have given me a gun if he wasn't really looking out for me, right? And then something occurred to me--what if the gun wasn't loaded? As he moved closer, and my fingers itched to grab the gun from its hiding place, Seth suddenly smirked at me.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

I watched, transfixed, as he lunged at me. Black material blocked my vision and I was suddenly encased in an all too familiar darkness.

***

**Edward. Saturday.**

Jonze was ready--waiting exactly where we were supposed to meet.

I approached him suspiciously, but when he threw me a shot gun and a rifle, I managed to warm up a bit, my doubt moving to the backburner as I lovingly glanced at the rifle. Was it so wrong that I felt empty without a gun on me?

_Don't answer that._

"Which one d'you want, Decoy?"

"I'll take 'em both," I answered, weighing the shot gun in my hand, knowing by its weight that it was loaded and ready.

"Get in. I'm driving. I hear we're paying Aro a little visit." I nodded, getting into the truck Jonze had idling nearby.

"What do you know about this whole thing, Jonze?"

"Aro's got your girl. We need to get her back. Jared went fucking rogue, helping Aro pin their own mess on you."

"Jared's done this?" Surprise flickered across my face. The little shit had it in him to cross so many? I mentally added him to my Revenge List.

"That's how it's been told."

"What the hell does Jared have against me?" I glanced over at Jonze, who had lit a cigarette. He drove carefully, both hands firmly on the wheel, the cigarette balanced perfectly between his lips.

"Jared? Fuck, he's just a pawn. You're asking the wrong question."

I turned back to the road, my mind on overdrive.

"The Volturi?" I muttered.

"Not so much the collective, kid."

"Aro?"

Jonze didn't respond, but looked over at me, blowing a plume of smoke above my head without removing his cigarette.

_Impressive._

"What the fuck."

"He knew your parents," came Jonze's voice, rugged.

"He killed them." A statement.

_Numb. _

"Or had them killed. It's what he does."

"But why?"

"Maybe we can ask him during our little house call."

I sat back, attempting to make sense of this new information. Why? There were still too many pieces missing. I stifled the reflex to peer under Jonze's truck seat. There was always that one piece hiding just out of sight, taunting the puzzle-solver, encouraging self-doubt.

Taunting me.

"How did you find out about my past, Jonze? Who told you?" I asked, trying to distract myself from going crazy.

Jonze glanced at me, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and tossing it out the open window, as though it was not needed for this particular discussion.

"I figured it out recently, actually. Took me a long while to learn who you were, Decoy. Even the right people wouldn't let that information slip, and I didn't know why, or what the big fucking deal was…for a very long time. When I found out who your parents were, it made sense."

"What did my parents have to do with anything?" I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear what he would say.

"Because they were…they were fucking worshipped in our little world, Decoy. They went out with a bang." He chuckled under his breath, and I resisted the urge to deck him. I knew he wasn't talking about the fire; rather, about the important and highly confidential work they were doing before they were killed.

"What they worked on," he continued, grabbing another cigarette and placing it unlit between his lips, "was revered. It was top-secret and treated like a fucking mission from God or some shit. When they were…murdered, everything needed to be covered up. You needed to be covered up."

I froze, my eyes fastened on the dashboard in front of me. I had never thought of my "death" like that before—that the very existence of Edward Masen was a liability to whatever they had been working on. My death as a necessary cover-up to something that went very, very wrong--as something that had had to happen the moment my parents stopped breathing.

Had it all been planned very carefully by the people who had given me the go-ahead to enact "revenge" on my parents killers; the very men who had acted as though they were doing _me_ the favor?

And what about them--the first people I'd killed? I had been led to believe that they were behind the death of my parents, and Edward had taken care of them, right before he had died.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

What if everything I'd been told, everything I believed in, was a lie?

I felt my foundations shake a little at the thought. I would be nothing. I would have nothing. My entire existence, everything that I stood for…would have been a waste. A lie and a fucking waste. I gave up everything for my chance at revenge—ultimately, I even gave up Bella. At the time, I allowed them to make me believe there was no other choice, and in my weakness, I had fallen for it. But I had been blinded...Bella was right; there had always been a choice. I was only too scared to consider the other side, the other option--the one where I grieved. The one where I let go. The one where I continued on and lead a happy, normal life.

Cold air from the open window breezed through the cab of the truck, hitting my face hard with a slap from Reality.

Except, I didn't know what was a real and what was fabricated anymore. _Who_ was real and who wasn't.

_Bella._

She was real, she had _always_ been real. She was the only real thing I had felt in seven years--the only thing I knew for sure were the feelings I had for her. I would focus on Bella--it didn't even matter if she no longer felt feelings back, because once upon a time, she felt just as much for me as I did for her. And that would always be real, if only ever tangible in memories.

I grasped onto that, the one real thing I knew for sure, and my foundations steadied. The rest would come soon enough.

"What's the plan?"

**

**Bella, Saturday.**

I woke up with a gun to my head.

I blinked furiously, clearing my vision and focusing on the hand that held the gun. And then the arm, the shoulder, and neck. And then finally, the face.

Jared. And then Seth nearby, his eyes somewhere else.

Who was he right now? Was he Seth, my friend and savior? Or was he Seth, the betrayer, the man who had led me here? I wasn't sure, and when he met my eyes, the look on his face was not screaming _don't worry, I'll save you!_ I rubbed a hand across my face, feeling grime and blood and death.

"She's conscious," reported Jared, his voice dull, dead. I flinched and pulled my head up further, blinking again as I glanced at my surroundings. I was currently pulling myself into a sitting position on a bench in what appeared to be a lavishly decorated courtyard.

Aro sat at a table a few feet away, drinking from a teacup. Across from him sat Victoria.

_Oh, crap._

I cringed as his gaze landed on me, and I ducked my head slightly as though to hide myself from his unwanted attentions.

"Isabella. Whatever shall I do with you? Did I not tell you that you did not ever want to see me again? I am sad at your disobedience. I had thought you were smarter than that."

"I was going to die here." I spat the words at him, my fear subsiding as my anger took over.

"Why the past tense, my dear? What has changed that you now use the past tense?"

I swallowed and averted the eyes that swept my face—so deeply brown that they almost gleamed red in the gloom of the day.

"Victoria did not heed my order, I see. She is very upset over the death of her Gleason." Aro's voice took on a tone of confusion, speaking as though Victoria was not seated directly across from him, and put the cup to his lips, drinking deeply from the tiny sized teacup. Victoria took hold of the antiqued pot resting in the middle of the table and re-filled his cup calmly. "Had I known he meant so much to her, I may have spared the man. I do hate to have Victoria upset with me; she is such a bitch when she is angry."

"I _am_ right here, Aro," she finally spoke. But there was a smile on her face and a spark in her eye that I now knew to be afraid of.

I paused, my eyes travelling back to Aro's face automatically.

"You gave the order to have Dr.G—Gleason killed?" I asked, looking for some clarification. Victoria had already said as much, but I wanted to hear it from someone who wasn't holding a knife to my face.

"He was merely a pawn, Isabella, as are you."

I swallowed hard, causing Aro to chuckle.

"It's never fun learning how little you matter, is it? But my dear, that is not completely true. Your existence plays a very crucial part in a game that has been brewing for many years. You ended up being the key, in a manner of speaking. Your Decoy never would have cracked and given up his identity if it hadn't been for you. We used you to lure him out." Aro turned to Victoria with a smile. "Jonzie was right about her, wasn't he? I argued over using an innocent civilian this way, but he was right. And yet how hilarious that it was his very own Decoy the whole time…"

Jonzie? Shit, Jonze?

"Oh yes, my dear. Jonzie only recently found out about a young girl Edward Mason had had an infatuation with. He found out that she was here in Seattle, and began tracking this young woman, hoping to find a connection to the boy who had ruined his life. Imagine his complete and utter surprise last week when his Decoy turned out to be his number one suspect."

I closed my eyes against his words, my stomach tumbling down to my feet with a sickening twist. I went back then--I rewound everything I knew about Jonze, which wasn't much, trying to fit in the bits and pieces.

Jonze? How had Edward "ruined" Jonzes' life? What had he done? Who had he killed? _Does Edward know?_

_Play their game_, whispered Seth's voice in my head. _Play their game_. I swallowed my shock and pulled myself together.

"Is Seth a pawn in your little game, too?" I asked, opening my eyes and looking directly at Aro. I ignored the sharp snarl off to my right where Seth stood.

"Agent Clearwater…Seth…has been a pleasant surprise. But he too plays for something long lost. Keep that in mind, Isabella."

I had no idea what Aro was talking about, and I was getting sick of his cryptic words. Was he insinuating that Seth also had other plans? Did he have something else up his sleeve? Was he using me to get to something else? I was so tired of guessing, and yet it was all I could do.

"It's nearly time."

The words were barely out of his mouth when a crash sounded from nearby. Shouting voices followed, an obvious scuffle capturing our attention.

A gunshot fired, and I turned my eyes to Aro.

He smiled pleasantly.

"Our guests have arrived." He swept his arms out majestically, and I wondered seriously about his serotonin levels.

I felt, rather than saw, Jared turn his gun forward toward the noise, a quick click signaling he was ready for whatever was about to step forward through the opening into the courtyard. Seth withdrew his own gun, pointing it forward.

Another gunshot sounded, closer this time.

"I do hope they aren't going too crazy out there. It would be a shame to lose someone important."

Aro stood, glancing over at Jared and nodding before he turned his back to us. Jared grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to a smattering of nearby trees, shielding me from the sight of anyone near the entrance. His eyes twitching nervously away from my face and then back, Jared pulled a piece of fabric across my mouth, securing it tightly behind my head.

"Pull this out and I will shoot you." His eyes found mine, and I believed him. I gagged against the material at first, attempting to push the foul taste from my mouth, but when it was obvious it wasn't going anywhere, I stopped, swallowing down my disgust with the sudden excessive amount of saliva.

Jared retreated back to his spot, and I took the opportunity to turn to Seth, my eyes questioning.

_What happens now?_

But he just shook his head, his gaze following Aro's, his gun steady.

Reluctantly I stood between tree trunks, waiting, my hand hovering at my hip, hoping like hell it was loaded.

**

**Edward. Saturday.**

My gun trained on Aro, I stepped out into the hidden courtyard, my eyes sweeping the open space quickly.

Jonze and I—we'd killed too many people to find this place--she had to be here. Behind me I heard continued gunfire as Jonze defended me from the fork in the hallway that led to this place, yards away. Because of him, no one would be able to get to me now; he had my back, and no one in this courtyard could expect backup.

"Where is she?" I demanded, my eyes on Aro, ignoring the others for the moment. I had envisioned her here…tied up, probably. And afraid, but relieved to see me. Who was I kidding? I had already imagined a reunion that involved an NC-17 rating. What I hadn't pictured was an empty courtyard.

I didn't miss the smile Aro threw my way as he turned slightly from his tea party.

"Isabella? She is…momentarily occupied," he responded, standing slowly. My eyes narrowed, and I took inventory of the yard again, this time allowing faces to sink in--Seth, Jared, Aro and presumably Victoria. She stood glaring at me, her red hair ablaze, her face angry but lit with something dangerously unsettling. All except Aro had guns pointed my way.

"Clearwater," I nodded my disgust his way, giving him a millisecond of my time before dismissing him completely. He was alive, but his gun was on me.

I preferred him dead.

Aro cleared this throat, placing his large hands on the table and spreading his fingers. "You found my hideout, I see."

"Not without some help," I replied, tipping my head in the direction of the gunshots. I didn't want Aro to know that it was just Jonze and I. With all the commotion out there, it sounded like fucking World War Three.

"Yes, he's really a great boss, isn't he?" laughed Aro humorlessly.

"What the fuck is this all about, Aro? You have Bella. I'm here now, too. This is what you wanted…my undivided attention. So speak."

Aro laughed whole heartedly this time, his tall frame shaking as he attempted to control himself. I wanted so badly to just shoot them all now, and ask questions later, as long as I knew Bella was safe. But I didn't know that, and I would have to be patient. I couldn't risk it.

"You're much too trusting, Decoy," replied Aro, his eyes twinkling. "How have you made it this far? You've been betrayed by many, and yet here you are, still standing."

"You wanted me here to talk in fucking puzzles, Aro? Hardly seems worth all the effort," I answered, my anger boiling beneath my cool exterior.

"Au contraire, young Decoy. None of this was a result of my effort, though it has been quite fascinating to watch come together. So elaborate. So evil. So….inspiring!"

"Just tell me why I'm here, already. It would be nice to know before I put a hole in your head. Although really, I am realizing that I could live without your last words." Jared and Victoria took a step closer, and in my periphery, I noticed that Seth did not.

_What are you playing at, Clearwater?_

But I kept my stance steady, my eyes on Aro. "Why did you kill my parents?" I demanded my voice low.

"Kill your—oh dear boy. Is that what they've told you? What a tangled web you tread."

"Can I kill him now?" asked the red flame, her green eyes filled with a childlike excitement--lit with wild passion and fire.

"You must be Victoria," I replied smoothly, shifting my attention from the lies spewing from Aro and over to the woman positioned slightly behind him.

"You killed James," she replied simply, her gun aimed directly at my head.

I nodded.

"Guilty." I smiled at that because not even for a second did I regret killing someone who was a part of _this_.

"I'm going to kill you. But first, I'm going to kill your little girlfriend in front of you. I already damaged her." The smugness in her voice caused me to take another step into the courtyard, the boiling rage barely beneath the surface anymore.

"Now, now, Victoria…you know he's not for you to kill." Aro stepped between us and directly into the bullet path between Victoria and me, blocking any shot either of us could have made a second ago.

"What did you do to her?" I demanded. I knew she was purposely trying to get a rise from me, and fuck it, it was working.

But she only smiled from behind Aro, her teeth gleaming with secrets. I breathed deeply and pulled out a smile of my own, venom dripping from my words.

"You know, in all the weeks I watched James before I killed him, I never once saw you at his apartment. I never found a picture of you. And yet, there were women over all the time." I smiled again and tilted my head as though contemplating something. Even though I realized it wasn't a bright idea, the pain lessened somewhat when I saw the expression on her evil face.

"Yeah. Always these young college girls. Man, and they worshipped the guy—he'd snap his fingers and they'd--" Victoria's expression went from hurt to incredulous to pissed-the-fuck-off in about five seconds. She took one step from behind Aro, raised her gun, and in one fluid motion she pulled the trigger.

But a millisecond before the bullet grazed my arm, another shot fired, echoing from across the yard, and Victoria suddenly dropped to the concrete, blood flowing from a wound in her back, the pooling darkness a disturbingly similar color to her hair. My eyes snapped up as the pain from my bullet-grazed arm yelled at me to take notice. I held my gun pointed directly at Aro, as I scanned for the source of the shooter, but all I heard was Jared screaming and swearing.

And then there she was, stepping out from a clump of trees, smoking gun falling from her grasp, her eyes wide and staring at Victoria's body. She froze at the sight before her, a gag in her mouth, blood across most of her face.

I'm not sure if I'd ever loved her more than at that moment.

"Now, Jared," said Aro softly, his eyes never leaving Victoria's lifeless form.

I sprung into action as Jared turned his gun to Bella.

But Aro had procured a gun of his own from somewhere and held it unflinchingly at my head. The next one would not merely scratch the surface, promised the darkness in his eyes, as he looked from Victoria's body to my face.

My eyes shifted to Bella in slow horror, indecision and fear of consequences freezing my limbs. I watched, motionless, as Bella suddenly threw something at Jared's face. As the object left her hand, she ducked and covered her head. I half expected a grenade to go off but instead, Jared merely swore and threw his hands up as dozens of tiny objects hit him in the face, followed by the larger, original object. They all hit and bounced harmlessly to the ground.

_Is that a pill bottle?_ All eyes followed the rolling objects, as though transfixed.

All eyes, that is, except Seth's. Because as the rest of us watched the scattered items roll, Seth turned his gun on Jared and pulled the trigger. Jared fell forward, a bullet nestled deep within his left shoulder, and landed among the tiny objects that had taunted him only seconds ago.

Seth turned his gun on Aro.

"Three guns to one, Aro. Your call," called out Seth, counting the gun Bella had retrieved from the ground, the muzzle shaking in Aro's direction.

Aro's eyes glinted dangerously as he hesitated. I knew his adrenaline must have been telling him to shoot me, but his head was telling him he'd be dead in a second. Aro lowered his gun. He valued life. He also valued revenge.

"Go, Bella!" yelled Seth. Bella stumbled forward, and I managed to move my limbs, meeting her half way when she began to crumble and fall.

I caught her and quickly pulled off the gag, drawing her close to my body, hugging her with all of me until she let out a tiny hoarse squeak and her gun clattered to the concrete between us. I loosened my hold and tucked her under one arm, picking up her gun and turning quickly for the doorway. This was no time for reunions, no matter how much I wanted to touch her, to make sure she was okay and to figure out why there was so much blood on her face.

I shot Seth a questioning glance as we passed, and he nodded quickly to the exit, his face a mask of determination. "Take her away from here."

And so I did.

"Where is Leah?" his voice followed us as I led Bella from the courtyard down the hall, and I only briefly wondered who Leah was before I noticed that the hallway shooting had stopped. My mind switched to Jonze. Had he been left unscathed?

"Your arm…" muttered Bella quietly from below me. Her voice was robotic, and I was betting she was in shock. She had just shot a person, and I remembered the feeling well. I had vomited into a potted plant after my first kill.

"It's fine," I reassured her. But even as the words exited my mouth, I felt my arm throb dully.

"No, no. Your arm…no, not your arm." I felt her shake her head vigorously against me.

"Not your arm. Aro, it wasn't Aro. Fuck. Jonze! Jonze, Edward."

I stopped in my tracks, my eyes leaving the path in front of me to stare down at the tiny girl beside me.

"Jonze what, Bella?" Ice clutched my heart as I waited, dreading what was next.

"It was Jonze. It _is _Jonze." I didn't have to ask her to clarify because her eyes suddenly cleared, and she was completely coherent. My blood froze in my veins for a moment, and I couldn't move. I closed my eyes and allowed the betrayal to wash through me. But I had suspected...I had suspected something.

Eyes open again, I pushed Bella against the wall and turned to the fork in the hallway, my gun extended in front of me.

It didn't make sense. At all. But I believed her. I believed she knew something I had only suspected, and then ignored. Jasper and now Jonze…had they been working together this whole time? It explained some, but not enough. Why would Jonze have gone through with all this when Jasper already knew I was Edward Masen? No, there was more to it. One more piece.

Clutching desperately at the crumbling foundations inside myself, I approached the fork slowly, leaving Bella against the wall. Carefully, I peered around—it was clear down both hallways. If we could sprint straight down the left hall, we'd be outside and…

Shit. No car. Not if Bella was right.

Didn't matter. One step at a time.

I pulled Bella to me once more.

"We're going to run, Bella, as fast as we can down the hallway to your left. We're almost out of here. Can you do that?" I brushed back some of the hair that had gotten stuck and subsequently dried against her bloodied face and fastened it securely behind her ear.

Her face. Oh _fuck_, her face.

I bristled at the sight and ran one finger tenderly next to the deep gash across her cheekbone.

"Bella, what did she do to you?" I whispered, nearly forgetting our immediate peril as I took her head between my hands and examined her face more closely. The jagged line screamed of anger, and I knew. This had to be Victoria's work.

But she shook my hands off and ducked her head, pulling her gun from where I had placed it in my waistband. "I can do this. Let's go, Edward. We're running out of time."

I nodded and cleared my throat, noting how she ignored my question.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly. And then she took the lead, grabbing my hand and taking off for the fork.

We ran.

There was no one to pass except dead bodies.

I tried not to question why the Volturi headquarters had turned into a ghost town; instead, I pushed open the side door that lead to the back-alley Jonze and I had snuck in through.

_Where the fuck is he hiding?_

But as we cautiously exited and made our way to the fence that marked the end of the Volturi property, there was still no one around.

Jonze's truck stood parked where we had left it on the other side of the fence, horribly hidden behind a cluster of bushes in our rush to get inside. With a glance back toward the house to make sure we weren't being followed, I made a decision. Finding the gate, I pulled Bella through quickly and arrived beside the truck, my back to Bella, ready to hotwire it.

"I don't think we should--" But Bella was cut off half-way through her sentence because at that exact second a bullet I never saw coming, flew through the air and struck her right shoulder from behind. I heard, rather than saw, her body fall forward, a gasp escaping from her throat, as her body hit the gravel with a sickening _thud._

"Bella?" My foundations shook dangerously as I turned, horrified. And then time stood still as I fell to my knees to grab her, to push my hands against the opening of the wound to stop the flow of blood. But when I saw that there was more blood then there should have been, I realized the bullet had gone all the way through her shoulder. Bella's pulse throbbed weakly beneath my hands, and when I looked up--when I looked to see who had done this to Bella--I froze.

"Fucking _why_?" I screamed at Jonze, as he walked out from the bush, gun trained on me, a sadistic smile twisting his pock-marked face.

"One of these days, E, your worlds are going to collide and the damage will be catastrophic." With Bella unconscious in my arms and her blood quickly vacating her body, a shiver ran the course of my body.

I had heard those very words months ago--those had been Jasper's words of wisdom.

_This is all going to explode in your face._

Ka-boom.

* * *

**A/N:** I couldn't get John Mayer's song Assassin out of my head for the last few weeks. Damn you, Mayer, damn you!

Thank you guys for waiting patiently. I know this one was long coming and perhaps not filled with as many revelations as you would have prefered. But rest assured that all characters are cued and waiting. It's time for a showdown. Jasper is close and time is a tickin'.

Happy Holidays, guys, I continue to adore all your kind words/reviews/messages:)


	18. Chapter 17 Choices

**A/N:** Bella's POV is all in italicized memories, as she lays bleeding from a Jonze inflicted bullet wound.

Chapter 17 Choices

* * *

Bella

_His face was a thing of beauty. _

_The moment our eyes met, I was captivated. It took only a second for me to go from being completely okay with the loneliness that had taken up residence in my heart, to knowing that I would never be complete again without his smile in my life. It was crazy. It was all-consuming. It was also the most undeniably absolute sensation I'd felt in years._

_It happened between English and Math on a Wednesday in the east hall at Forks High, and I had to shake off the feeling of a school-girl obsession. I was not Jessica Stanely or Lauren Mallory. I didn't get crushes. I was always the aloof girl that didn't get too close to anyone._

_But when our eyes locked from opposite ends of the hall, something inexplicable passed through my body, and I couldn't look away. He held my gaze, a trace of something unfamiliar but magnetic lighting a spark in his green eyes and fiercely contradicting the firm scowl twisting his beautiful features. It was those green eyes that continued to tell a different story…those eyes that kept my smile from faltering as we drew nearer. And this smile--this smile was not the type of smile I shared with my friends, or the type of smile I threw at an adult. No, this was a new kind of smile--it stretched across my face and claimed ownership of my features. Everything about me felt brighter and lighter as I smiled his way, my heart speeding up with expectation of the unknown—an oxymoron perhaps, but that's what we would always be._

_But instead of smiling back, whatever had been in his eyes a second before melted away, and he glared at me sharply before ducking his head and passing me by without a second glance._

**

It hurts!

**

Edward

My heart twisted painfully as I watched her slow, labored breaths.

"What the fuck, Jonze?" I demanded, my hand continuing to push down on the bullet wound that cut clean through Bella's shoulder. Frantically, I glanced back. My gun was on the driver's seat in the cab of the truck where I'd left it, and I couldn't get to it without leaving Bella to bleed vulnerable and unprotected…though if he wanted to kill us both right now, he could—and the fact that he hadn't yet cheered me up somewhat.

"This wasn't exactly the plan," muttered Jonze, glancing over his shoulder toward the Volturi house. But even with worry in his eyes, the wicked grin didn't leave his face.

"Did you kill Aro?" he asked pleasantly, his gun still trained on me.

"No."

He frowned, almost looking annoyed.

"Then where is he?"

I ignored his question, my eyes on Bella. Her breathing picked up, her eyeballs moving vividly beneath the thin skin of her eyelids. I only hoped that what she was seeing on the other side was better than what was about to go down in front of her unconscious body.

I would have to think fast.

_**_

Bella

_He'd been absent for weeks, but every day I stared at the empty desk in our shared AP classes, wondering at his whereabouts, my overactive imagination working frantically. The dark shadow that loomed over him, following him everywhere he walked at Forks High, had been noticeably absent, lightening the mood in each class._

_I was crazy to miss its presence, but I did._

_I worried about him despite the fact that ever since that first day in the hall, he managed to ignore me more than anyone else. He actually went out of his way to ignore me, I'd noticed, abruptly changing directions in the hallway to avoid passing me, to avoid looking at me. And when the rare occasion came up, and he couldn't avoid me, his glare was worse than anything else he could have done, worse than hurtful words, rumors, whispers._

_It hurt, but I didn't know him. And as much as I racked my brain, I couldn't think of anything I could have done to have offended him._

_I told myself it really didn't matter. I had thought I'd seen a fire in those eyes, but I was obviously wrong…and I'd almost convinced myself I'd made it all up._

**

Fire. Was it in my blood?

**

Edward

"She's going to die if I don't get her to the hospital." Bella was struggling weakly in my arms now, a small moan escaping from her bloodied lips.

"Don't you get it yet, Decoy? That's the point. You killed someone I needed. Now I'm killing someone you need."

My eyes snapped back up to Jonze's face.

"That's what this is? I killed someone you loved, Jonze?"

"Your first kill, Edward. What was her name?"

I stared at Jonze blankly.

"Say her name!" he screamed, taking a step closer. I leaned over Bella's body protectively and glared.

"Jane. Jane Johnson. Followed quickly by her brother, Felix."

Jonze suddenly relaxed his grip on the gun, pulling his hand to wipe at something on his face. Tears?

"Jane Johnson. My fucking wife."

My eyes sharpened, and I took a close look at Jonze.

"Johnson. Your wife? She was your wife?" I spoke slowly, my mind diverting back and forth between Bella's bloody face and Jonze's crazed expression. And then, the pieces not falling fast enough, "Why did your wife kill my parents?"

"My wife did no such thing!" he yelled, waving his gun at me again, his eyes red and angry. "She was innocent. My wife was just a convenient setup, a way for them to get back at me for fucking with their investigation!"

I shook my head, trying to follow him, but he was ranting and raving now.

"She was a pawn. She took the fall for what I did. She was a way for them to teach me a lesson and a way to get rid of you at the same time. Of course, I didn't know who killed her for a very long time. I didn't know it was Edward Masen, Edward fucking Masen until months ago, and even then, I didn't know Edward Masen was _you_ until a week ago.

"My own fucking prodigal assassin turns out to be my wife's killer. It's a fucking small world, alright!"

"Who did all this? Who set us up? Who killed my parents?" I asked quietly as Bella's breathing steadied. The questions were streaming now, as my mind began to thaw.

"The fucking government, Decoy! They did this to you. They turned you into this!" He motioned to me with his gun, as though _this_ was an obvious deformity of some sort.

"So why go after me?" I asked, my voice still low, calming, despite my mounting sense of fear. "Why hurt Bella? It's not her fault. It's not my fault."

"You pulled the trigger, Decoy. You did. You killed her. It doesn't matter who told you to do it, you made the choice."

"Don't you see you're doing the exact same thing, Jonze? I was their instrument, they used me." I wasn't sure where my feelings lay, not just yet, but I had to do something…maybe I could get through to a wronged Jonze.

"We let ourselves be used. We allowed them to turn us into monsters. We had a choice." His sneer launched itself at me with a slap.

Choice. There that was again. And then, because I could no longer stop myself, I risked his anger.

"Who killed my parents?" My voice low now, I knew.

"What?"

"Who killed them? Who set my house on fire and let them burn to death? Who allowed that to happen, knowing there was a kid inside?"

"I didn't know--" he protested.

"You." I narrowed my eyes.

"Yes. I fucking lit that match. But it wasn't to kill anyone. I fucked up. I merely wanted to burn their research, all the documents. I didn't think _they_ would fucking burn! I was just trying to scare them a little, show them they weren't the fucking invincible duo they thought they were. It was supposed to be Jane and me, they'd promised me and then the Masen's took it away from us." There was so much bitterness, so much hate…I wondered what else was behind his motivations.

"And so they sent me to do the dirty work. The little teenager who'd been wronged. They sent me to kill your wife," I concluded.

"They lied to you, yes. They expected you to be caught, but you were good. They reconsidered."

"The government," I stated, just to be clear on who _they_ were.

"The part of the government that no one talks about, Decoy. You know parts of them well--you worked for one for years. Well, there are many different facets in the underworld. The government has sleazes for every job. When they realized you might benefit them, they offered you a new life, or rather, out of your old one."

"How do you know all this?"

"Years of fucking research on Edward Masen. Fuck, had I only looked more closely at _you_, the fucking kid with no background…but none of us have a past, that's the point. How was I supposed to know that the kid who never smiled was the very same who had shot my fucking wife?"

**

Bella

_His smile! It caused me to nearly come undone. _

_Months had flown by. An uneventful spring break had ended, and we were back at school. He strode into the room, ignoring the whispers, and I knew immediately that something was different. I had long ago memorized the slouched angle of his tense shoulders, the lines of his deep scowl. But today? His shoulders were back, his face a territory of neutral ease. What had changed? Who was this?_

_I wanted desperately to smile at him, to test the water. Because even though I had convinced myself I had seen nothing in those eyes, my heart still sang out at his proximity. Instead though, I tried not to watch as he took his assigned seat across from me, dropping his backpack in the aisle and slapping his notebook on the desk. This was new—usually he came to class empty handed. I busied myself with an elaborate doodle and counted silently in my head. If I could make it to one-hundred without peeking, I would allow myself a reward. Maybe a smile in his direction?_

No_, I scoffed at myself, _he'll just glare. Or worse, ignore you_._

_Instead, as I reached one-hundred, I glanced over casually, tucking a lock of hair behind my right ear. I froze._

_He was already looking at me. Staring, but without contempt or anger, his usual two expressions. A spark of something burned quietly in his clear eyes, the usual bruised circles gone from the edges._

_Caught, his face flushed slightly, but he didn't look away. Instead, a tentative smile explored his face, and my breathing accelerated. He was so much more breathtaking than I had even realized. Before I could smile back, he looked away, down at his notebook. _

_What had happened? Why today? _

_But it didn't matter. Because the electricity that coursed through my body told me not to_ _question it._

_Something was going to happen. And it was going to change my life._

**

It burned and stung, lashing out. Would it destroy me?

**

Edward

I pulled off my shirt. I had to do something, and Jonze hadn't shot me yet. I was taking that as a good sign. If Bella was going to make it, the bleeding had to be stopped. I twisted the shirt under Bella's armpit and over her shoulder, tying it off tightly, my bloody hands working quickly. I had no idea if it would be effective. I had always been in the business of taking lives, not saving them…this was new to me.

Jonze watched, an expression of uncertainty flashing across his features as Bella coughed, a stripe of blood escaping from between her lips.

"If I'd been able to save her." Regret.

"Where were you when it…when I…" _Keep him talking_, screamed my mind.

"Chicago. After the fire got out of control and killed your parents, they wouldn't let me go. I was detained. Thought they were going to kill me for awhile there. I'd destroyed decades of top-fucking-secret work, not to mention the people who held the knowledge. Instead they decided it best to kill my wife and brother. They were right--they'd successfully created my perfect hell. When I found out, I wanted to fucking kill myself. But when they let me go, I found myself drawn here. It wasn't long until Aro sought me out--he knew my story, as he knows all our stories…and he saw my darkness. I was a fallen angel, much like he once had been, and he offered me a new life. Bitter and with a renewed sense of hatred, I came back with a counteroffer—I would crawl back to the government, but this time, I would offer Aro insider information. Information that he wouldn't normally have access to—the fee? A favor, when the time came. Favors are priceless, I found out."

As Jonze talked, I was slowly inching in front of Bella, hoping to protect her body with my own. Though he hadn't made his move yet, I didn't doubt his thirst for revenge. He had worked very hard to get where he was and there was no way he was going to give up on his plan now. Especially since I had a feeling he had just pissed Aro off, betrayed him, even.

"That favor, of course, I always knew what it would be, or at least what it would pertain to. I always knew I would need his help in my search for you. He had too many seedy connections, he knew all the wrong people…which is what exactly what I would need. His access to expendable people like Gleason proved to be very fruitful. In fact, I had no idea how much I lucked out—Gleason wound up digging you up, and what a perfect coincidence that turned out to be."

"And what about Jasper?" I questioned, ignoring the prickling pain at my heart. What was his part in all of this? I still didn't know where he fit in all of this. I couldn't forget his warning…

"Jasper." Jonze laughed, his mood suddenly lightening at the name.

"I'm good at finding out a person's weakness. It was my job for so long. I wasn't lying to you when I told you that I was Black Op's before this life, Decoy. I sought out weaknesses and tortured and killed based on the severity of these weaknesses. Take you for example--I took a gamble on you. I found out Edward Masen, the boy who'd murdered my family, had dated a Forks girl before he'd disappeared, a girl he had been in love with, as I heard it told. That's all I really had to go on. So I sought this girl out, this Isabella Swan. I found she was already living in this very city. It was not hard to find her after that. I hoped, because she was here, Edward Masen would be nearby. It was a gamble, like I said, but mostly my gambles are based on human truths. If Edward was as head over heels as I'd been led to believe, if he was actually still alive like I knew, the human truth would be that he was not far away from her. And so I watched and I worked and I waited. My patience paid off--during that time, I noticed something very interesting."

**

Bella

"_Yo, Bella, wait up!" Mike Newton. I did not have time for him today, but I turned to him anyway, a patient smile painting over my dark annoyance with a lighter stroke._

"_What's up, Newton?" I asked, hoping to throw him off with the use of his last name. He hated it when girls used his last name and I knew it well. I watched him grimace slightly, but he shook it off quickly, flashing one of his cheesy grins. I had overheard him telling Tyler that it was his "panty-wetting" grin…he believed completely that no girl could resist it._

_I fought the urge to vomit on his shiny black Nikes._

"_Not much, Bella. There's actually something I wanted to ask you."_

_Uh-oh. I busied myself with shoving my locker full of un-needed books, thankful for the distraction, muttering an "Mmm-hum?" his way. _

"_I wanted to see if you'd go to prom with me. You know we'd make a fuck-hot couple, Bella Swan." I slammed my locker door shut, probably louder than necessary, and took a deep breath. Thinking quickly on my feet was not my forte. As my eyes began to jump their way toward his overeager face, they suddenly paused en-route, distracted by something a few lockers away._

_It was him. And he was staring at me, the strangest expression on his face—something between annoyance, amusement and…pain? Sadness? I shook myself mentally, wondering if this little scene was entertaining him. I glared his way slightly and turned back to Mike, completely thrown off._

"_Sorry Mike, I'm uh, I'm not going to prom. Two left feet." I shrugged my shoulders and hoped that would be enough for him to leave me alone._

"_I'll teach you, Bella! Come on, it'll be fun…I'll put on my blue suede shoes, and I'll teach you how to groove! Ha, that even rhymed!"_

"_Bravo, Mike." I refrained from rolling my eyes. Why did girls swoon over him? "But I'm not going. Why don't you ask Jessica? She already bought dress. You didn't hear it from me, but she might be….hoping you'd ask her."_

_Mike looked hurt for about half a second._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah. And the dress? It's killer."_

"_Really?" The hamster wheel was turning, albeit slowly. I stepped up my game._

"_Yup. Massive cleavage," I explained, holding my hands out in front of me to mimic what Jess's dress did to her rack. Mike's eyes widened. _

"_Stanley is pretty hot. She's no Swan, but I'll ask her. If you're sure you're not going."_

"_Not going," I swore, holding two fingers up in a scouts honor, resisting the urge to lower one finger to flick off Edward Masen. Because the entire time I stammered my made up my excuses with Newton, Edward fucking Masen leaned against his locker, his shoulders shaking with quiet laugher._

_As Mike and I walked away, I could resist no longer. Without looking back, I thrust my hand above my shoulder and raised my middle finger. The laughing got louder._

**

Edward

My body completely blocked Bella's now, as I crouched on the ground, torn between hearing Jonzes' next words and forming a workable escape plan. I knew I would have to get to my gun before Jonze shot--and yet, I didn't move. His words had caught me, trapped me, and I had to know.

"What did you notice, Jonze?"

"Well, as I kept my eyes firmly planted on little Miss Isabella Swan's abode, I started to notice that I wasn't the only one with a keen interest in the pretty girl. Not only was there someone else taking pictures and following her around, but I _knew_ who that someone else was."

"Jasper." Of course. Whatever I found out from here, whatever Jasper had done, I was the one who got him into the mess, I was the one who had asked him to watch Bella. The information struck me fast and hard--Jasper had never planned to be on Jonze's team; ultimately, it was my own fault that Jonze discovered Jasper and his weakness.

The tight knot of betrayal in the pit of my stomach loosened but quickly retightened, this time with guilt, as I struggled to understand what had happened.

"I knew of Jasper Whitlock, but I didn't know him personally. At first, I had to wonder if _he_ was Edward Masen. His obsession with Bella was strange; I didn't understand what was going on. But of course, he wasn't…even plastic surgery couldn't change a man that much. And he didn't look at her quite right. Not for a supposed man in love.

"And so, piece by piece, I figured things out, or at least, nearly. I read up on our boy Whitlock and found he came into his career young, like you. In fact, I found he was taken into Chicago headquarters the very same night your parents died. I was even willing to bet he was there the very same moments you were, waiting for something like revenge. But I never could find out why he was there, nor if you two had ever crossed paths."

My eyes met his, but I remained silent, giving nothing away. He had certainly done his research.

"I wondered then--if Jasper was watching Bella for the same reason I was--because he wanted to get to _you_ for some reason. Revenge? Mere desire to communicate? I didn't know, but I now knew my efforts weren't in vain. There was something there…a definite connection. So I kept watching, doubling my efforts. I soon found out Gleason was your girls' professor, and there it was. A plan formed and I cashed in my favor from Aro…I would need Gleason for this. If anything was going to lure Edward Masen out of hiding, it would be the imminent danger Bella Swan suddenly would find herself in. Joke was on me, though. I put my best man on the case, Decoy, my fucking prodigy boy. As I knew you would, you timed the kill perfectly, the moment before Bella Swan stepped into that apartment building. Everything was going as I hoped…she stepped in, discovered the body. Meanwhile, I was on my way with another of Aro's favors, ready to abduct Miss Swan and take her back to Aro's."

Jonze swung his gun back behind him, his eyes rolling wildly in his head as he laughed at his unraveled plan. I inched toward the truck.

"But you fucking went back. I heard it all later, on tape. _You_ were Edward Masen. Decoy had always been Edward Masen. And Bella Swan was his girl. What a fucking insane coincidence. At first, I was furious. How my plan had backfired. And now there you were, on the run with the very bait I'd used to find you. Fucking hook right in your mouth, empty pole in my hand."

He was barely focused on me at all now as he recounted the events of the past few weeks. As the pieces fell into place, my anger grew. But I knew better than to say anything. Instead, I kept still, making small movements toward my gun.

"And then, I had you both in my grasp. You brought Bella into our hospital. I nearly had Doc kill her then and there, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. I was not going to be satisfied. I needed to play with my prey before I devoured it. I wasn't ready for closure, and I hadn't fucked with your head nearly enough. I wanted to you to _feel_ it. And so, I sent Bella to the safe-house and set Jared up as a mole. Fucking kid had no idea he was being played. You kill him back there? What about Victoria?"

The casualness that he used to question me only further spoke of his insanity.

"Bella shot her." My answer seemed to please him.

"She's a little spitfire, isn't she? I was certainly not counting on that. Didn't think she'd get away from Aro's men when they stormed the safe-house. And when she did, I thought I had really fucked up. I thought it was over--you would surely have taken her and fled the country. But you've always been one who couldn't say no to revenge, huh, Masen? You could never just leave things alone, and go on your way." Jonze paused, a glare taking over. But his focus remained in the past and I continued my stealthy movements.

"But you still don't know who you're up against…you don't know I am your enemy. And so, I put in the MIA call. I had every officer armed with your picture and eventually, I manipulated the situation perfectly, making you the bad guy. The man who had shot and then later killed Clearwater. You'd called me, so I knew you were still in the city. I would find you, and it would again almost be too easy. But then I found Jasper--or shall I say, I found Jasper's weakness, Alice Cullen, lying alone in the Harborview hospital. That's all it took, and your man Jasper was mine. I tracked you using your cell phone…that is, before you crushed it, and sent Jasper after Bella. Alice was under my thumb, and if he didn't cooperate, she was dead. Weaknesses. We all have them. His was Alice, and he chose her over you."

"He warned me." But I said it more to myself than to Jonze. Jasper had warned me, and I'd virtually gone and ignored it. Had we escaped Jasper's house before Aro's men found us, where would be today? One hand on Bella's chest, I felt her ragged breathing and bit the inside of my lip.

There could be no more what ifs or if onlys. Not anymore.

There could only be right nows.

**

Bella

"_So you use cleavage as a way to thwart off predators?" asked a voice softly as I lined up to get my lunch. My skin tingled, and I could feel my neck hair stand up as his breath tickled my skin. I had heard his voice very few times, and never had it been directed at me. I resisted the shiver that threatened to consume me._

"_Well, not my own cleavage, that just seems counter-productive, but…" I trailed off, immediately embarrassed by my words. I grabbed an apple and didn't turn around as a warm laugh quietly surrounded me and caused me to smile…that same weird smile from months ago. I picked up my tray and turned, hoping to be gifted with his smile in return._

_But he was already at the cafeteria door. My disappointment ran deep until he turned and hesitated, then threw me a lopsided grin and pushed the doors open, disappearing._

**

"Stop!"

**

Edward

Slowly, I stood up. Jonze's gun followed my sudden movement, his eyes showing surprise.

"So what's next, Jonze?" My question was met with a smirk, his eyes focusing quickly.

"She dies. You live with it."

"You had so many opportunities to kill her. Why now?"

"Because now you're standing here, and you can't do anything to stop it from happening. You're helpless."

I was too far away, I knew that. If I attempted to dive for my gun, I would give him open access to Bella's un-moving body.

As Jonze shifted his aim from my chest to a point behind me (Bella's head? Her heart?), I realized I was going to be too late.

There was only one thing I could do. As I prepared to lunge at Jonze, a voice stopped me cold.

"Back off, E."

**

"_You heap of scrap metal!" I yelled at my truck, kicking at the tire and then stooping to rub my sore toe as the rain pounded around me. I growled loudly and glared at the flat in front of me. Charlie had taught me more than once how exactly to change a tire if I ever found myself stuck with one. But at the time, I hadn't paid enough attention._

_I knew I'd always have my cell phone._

"_You were an idiot, 15 year-old Bella Swan," I muttered, grabbing the tire iron from the bed of my pickup and staring at it in annoyance._

_The sound of an approaching vehicle distracted me from my annoyance, and I stepped away from the road and closer to my truck as it approached. But when the car slowed and stopped a few feet behind my truck, I tightened my grip on the tire iron and glanced to see who it was, ready to act if it I needed to._

_But I immediately recognized a navy blue jeep and the tall frame extracting itself from the passenger's seat._

"_Need a hand?" he asked, looking unsure of his actions, pausing between our cars._

_I laughed and put a finger to my chin, mock pondering. "You mean you're not here to just laugh at me while I attempt to change the thing myself?"_

"_Unfortunately for you, the truck doesn't care about cleavage."_

_I suppressed a smile and tossed the tire iron at his foot. I missed, but the sentiment was there._

"_Okay, I deserved that." He grinned sheepishly, and I smiled, relieved, my rain-soaked body relaxing slightly. _

"_Do you know how to change a tire?" _

_He laughed quietly and picked up the iron from the sodden grass._

_Twenty minutes later, we huddled in his jeep as he called a tow-truck. There was just too much rain and mud. He couldn't change the tire safely._

"_Thanks for stopping, you didn't have to," I spoke, shivering in my wet clothes._

"_I couldn't just…drive by." He looked sad, and I wondered who he was._

"_I'm Bella," I joked, holding out my hand. We had never actually introduced ourselves, not officially. He looked at my hand a moment, a shadow closing his face. Then he shook his head, clearing the expression, and took my hand in his._

"_I'm Edward."_

_He didn't let go of my hand. I looked up in surprise, my eyes widening when I saw his expression. His eyes, they brought me back to that first day in the hall, except this time there was no scowl. And this time, I recognized the softness, the wonderment, the curiosity and the desire. I recognized it because it's exactly what I was feeling. My fingers itched to move to his wet hair, to run themselves through the bronzy mess, to meet the intrigue of the hue I'd never quite met before._

"_Bella." He whispered my name as though he'd known it forever and tightened his fingers around my own. "Why am I so afraid of you?"_

**

Gun stretched out before him, Jasper stood, unsmiling, yards down the alley.

"Jasper," I warned, shaking my head. _This isn't your fight._

"Jasper," repeated Jonze, sounding surprised.

"E, back the fuck off," he repeated, the bite in his voice harder now. His eyes floated down to Bella's body and lingered, before pulling back up to my face.

"Don't do this." I pleaded now, because it's two guns to zero, and what the hell did my dignity count for when it came to Bella and her life. There was nothing more important.

"My aim sucks ass E, I am merely a paper pusher, so back up or I might fucking shoot you in the eye."

A sound escaped Jonze's mouth, and he began to swing his gun toward Jasper.

"Don't fucking move, Jonzey." Jasper shot off a serious warning, hitting Jonze in the leg. "I am far from being done with you, you worthless piece of shit." Jonze growled dangerously, and didn't move. Despite a bullet in the leg, he barely faltered, his body frozen in the wasteland between Jasper and I.

"I fucked up, E. But I've got your back now. Go--get Bella to the hospital."

I didn't waste a second. Picking up Bella quickly but carefully, I ducked down to the other side of the truck where we would be protected from gunfire and opened the passenger door. I laid her body on the brown upholstered seat, hesitating, and then finally reached for the gun on the driver's seat. Through the window, I saw Jonze glaring at Jasper, his gun still hovering in the air between were Bella and I had been a second ago, and where Jasper currently stood.

Grasping the gun in my right hand, I walked around the truck and paused, my fingers itching to reach out, to aim, and to pull the trigger on the man who had killed my parents.

"Do it. Do it, Decoy. This is what you wanted…this is what you threw everything away for!" yelled Jonze, dropping his gun and turning to me, arms thrust out from his sides. In his eyes stood a challenge, a threat.

The gun moved without my permission. I found myself looking on as my hands grasped the shiny weapon with purpose.

"This is it, E. This is your second chance." Jasper's eyes never left Jonze, and someone who didn't know him as well as I did may have taken those words to mean something different. Years ago, hell, maybe even months ago, I may have pulled the trigger. But Jasper was not encouraging me to pull the trigger. He was letting me know that this was it; this was my second chance to make the right fucking decision.

Bella knew all along; I had always had a choice. The first time, I had chosen revenge over starting a new life with her. I had walked away from the only truly beautiful thing in my life because I thought it was the only way I could move on, the only way I could feel whole again. But I was incredibly wrong--and I suffered for it. I spent five years in the worst kind of hell, living in a limbo created only by myself, thinking I had no other choice. But now I got it. And Jasper was right. Bella had always been right.

The man who had killed my parents stood in front of me, and instead of killing him in cold blood, I turned my back on him and got in the truck. Gun still in hand, I stepped on the gas and drove away.

_I should have done this the first time. I chose you, Bella—I'm not afraid of you anymore._

The rearview mirror spelled out Jonze's future. On his knees, hands behind his head, Jonze was surrounded by FBI agents, their guns poised and ready.

In her unconscious state, Bella's lips parted and she smiled.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys? You're awesome.

Just a heads up…Détruitis about two chapters away from being finito.

Jasper comes clean next chapter. Bella scores a hospital room with a view. But where's Edward? Dun dun dun.

Reviews? Almost as awesome as you guys. But not quite.


	19. Chapter 18 Awake

WHAT? You don't remember what this fic is about? But it's only been about a zillion years since I've updated, maybe your memory just sucks?

I kid, I kid:) Do me (and you) a huge favor and go back a few chapters to refresh your memory? Pretty please?

* * *

Chapter 18-Awake

**Bella**

We were in our meadow and it was dark. Orion shone above us, Bella-Star glittering brilliantly.

Something from the other side of the endless darkness beckoned to me. I ignored it at first…I was happy here with Edward, his arms wrapped firmly around my waist.

"What's on the other side?" I finally whispered, turning my face to his. He smiled broadly and tightened his hold.

"I was hoping you'd ask. It's the real world and it's waiting for you."

"The real world? I don't want to leave. This is my real world now." I was confused and reluctant and scared as hell.

"Your family is waiting for you to wake up. They miss you, Bella. It's time to go back."

"But…will you be there? On the other side?"

I tilted my head up further to find his eyes. They shone impossibly bright.

"I was always there, Bella. I'll always be there."

I struggled to fight against his answer, an answer that didn't quite satisfy me, but the light rushed at me faster and faster. I held him tightly, but it was no use, Edward and Bella-Star were disappearing quickly. I shook my head fiercely, my blood pulsing.

"But I don't want to-"

* * *

"-leave."

"If that's what you'd like." I knew that voice and struggled to call out to it, but it was fading as my eyes struggled to open against the looming void of nothingness.

_Come back!_

* * *

Bright light flooded through the thin skin of my closed eyelids, and I reflexively began to throw an arm over the brightness that invaded my darkly soaked mind. But as I attempted to lift my arm, a blazing shot of hot heat tore through my shoulder, and I gasped in pain, causing my eyes to open in shocked protest.

"Bella! Oh, Bella. We were so worried!"

_Mom_. That was my Mom's voice. Wincing around the blinding light, I turned my head toward her voice.

"M-Mom?" My voice broke and I was crying. And then arms were around me, and I was sobbing, shaking. I didn't yet know why, but the tears rushed from my ducts like they'd been waiting for a very long time. The light burned, and I closed my eyes, allowing the tears to continue their escape.

"We were so scared, Bella. So scared." She whispered this in my ear as another set of arms surrounded me.

"Bells." His deep voice shook with emotion, and this alone caused me to open my eyes again to the blazing light. I squinted my eyes into slits to focus on Charlie.

"Do you hurt, baby? Do you need anything?" he asked.

"A new shoulder?" I questioned with a small smile through my tears. Relief flooded Charlie's worry. I could still joke. I couldn't be that bad off, right? Charlie squeezed me slightly and then let go, but Renee somehow managed to sit herself on the hospital bed beside me, her arms never leaving my good shoulder.

"What happened?" I asked cautiously, my brain muddled with cotton and memories repressed. I knew I'd remember it all in a matter of minutes, and I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that what I would remember would not be the real story.

At least, not all of it.

"You were…shot, Bells. By the same people who shot your professor Gleason."

The name. The name shocked my memory awake and everything came rushing back with dizzying speed.

"Who…who brought me to the hospital?" I asked softly, closing my eyes momentarily, his face smiling at me from the Orion-lit meadow.

"An FBI agent. He was the one that found you and rushed you here. What was his name, Charlie? We're going to have to thank him again."

_Edward Masen. _I silently willed Edward's name to slip from Charlie's lips.

"Whitlock. Agent Jasper Whitlock. A fine young man. Deserves a medal for this one," muttered Charlie. I was pretty sure he was already staging the ceremony in his mind. But wait.

_What?_

What had happened while I was unconscious? Edward and I were together at that truck outside of Aro's home quarters, getting ready to leave and then…that was it. Blackness. There had been no Jasper around. Had there?

Was Edward…? Had he made it?

Oh, crap.

"Where is…is Alice okay?" I asked quickly, would she know more? Where was Edward?

_Where the hell was Edward?_

"She's fine. She's been visiting you non-stop for three days. We had to bribe her to go home, Bella. That girl is a ball of energy."

"How do you feel, Bells?" asked Charlie, his mustache twitching slightly. I nodded and then opened my mouth.

"I feel-" I paused. _Scared, alone, happy to be alive_. "I feel okay. Did they…find the man who…"

"Yes, they got him all right. He won't ever be able to hurt anyone again," replied Charlie firmly, his eyes flashing.

I shivered at those words and wondered what fate Jonze met with. I needed the full story—the real story, and I needed it soon.

Where was Edward?

* * *

The room was filled with flowers, cards and chocolates, but there was only one bouquet that held my attention. A dozen daisies, sitting by the window.

Wincing with the movement, I slowly swung my legs to the edge of the bed and glanced back at the open door. No one in sight. I could do this. I had to know.

A grimace on my face, I shuffled over to the window sill feeling like a little old lady. I carefully pulled the bouquet toward me, searching for a card, a clue, an acknowledgement, a something.

But there was nothing attached to these daisies. It had to be him though. No one else knew of my utter fascination with the simplicity of the white and yellow daisy. I had never corrected the mistake made by suitors and ex boyfriends following Edward—_The Red Rose Mistake_, Alice called it, always cringing for these individuals who would never know better. But this was always my own fault, because I didn't ever bother to correct their assumption. Even Jake, my longest relationship since Edward, did not know of my love of daisies. Alice had accused me of not telling my _Ghosts of Boyfriends Past_ because I didn't ever intend on letting them in. Though I had argued with her about it at the time, she was absolutely right.

And so, there was no doubt in my mind that Edward had left me the daisies.

But where was he? Had he visited? When would he be back? I carried the vase of daisies back to my bed and set them next to me on the bedside table. I settled back into my hospital bed without taking my eyes off the vase.

At least he's okay. He sent flowers. He's obviously in one piece.

As my mind turned over question after question, I felt sleep wash over me. I fought it, but it was inevitable; I had to shut my eyes against the hope the daisies filled me with. Luckily, the daisies didn't disappear.

* * *

"Les fleurs_," I announced, picking a daisy from the patch that grew in our meadow. I inhaled its aroma and then smiled and turned to Edward. He was sitting propped up against a tree trunk, smiling up at me._

"Les poisons, hee hee hee, haw haw haw_," he replied with a helpless laugh, doing his best French Chef impersonation, as I leaned down and tucked the stem behind his ear. I stood back and grinned at my handiwork. _

"Très belle_," I nodded my approval and his smile widened. "But your French? It kind of bites."_

"Très Bella_," he answered back, reaching for my hand and pulling me to him. I stumbled forward, bending my knees and falling onto his chest dramatically. I rolled my eyes at his cheesy attempt to woo me._

"_What is it about daisies that you like so much?" he questioned, taking the flower from behind his ear and securing it behind my own._

"_They're unique." I answered simply, placing my hands on his face. I stared at him as he brushed back some of my hair. "And they make me happy."_

_Edward paused and glanced at me with a sudden intensity._

"_They die," he replied, his eyes darkening. I shook my head, attempting to control my sudden panic at the change in mood._

"_But they come back, Edward. They come back every spring and summer, so they never truly die."_

"_Everything dies. They may reappear for a couple of years, but eventually they just don't ever come back."_

_The darkness of his tone scared me, and I looked away._

"_Okay. But while they are alive, they are the most beautiful thing to me. Well, the most beautiful flower, anyway." I wanted so badly to erase the sadness-that haunted look from his face. I bent close and allowed my lips to brush his._

_Edwards's hands quickly went to my hair and then my face as he strengthened the intensity of the kiss. My heart raced, but this time it wasn't because I was lost in the moment, but because I was feeling something that was becoming all too familiar in our time together._

_There was a desperation in Edward's passion, and it scared the hell out of me. Like time was running out._

* * *

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

I woke up with a start not knowing where I was, the sound of a clock echoing loudly around me. As my vision cleared and I took in the room, I remembered and lay back against the pillows. But there was something more, and the tension did not leave my limbs. I could feel something…else.

I sat up cautiously and narrowed my eyes against the darkness, the ticking fading away into the background. For a single second I thought it was him. But as the clouds shifted in the sky and the shadows began to clear, that second slipped by me, somehow apologetic.

"Bella," spoke a voice, and I knew it in a heartbeat.

_I'm sorry, Bella. About everything that has happened. About anything that will happen._

Jasper.

I let out a breath.

"Seems appropriate that you're sitting there in the dark," I spoke.

Jasper didn't answer right away. I couldn't see the details of his face, but I could hear as he inhaled and exhaled deeply as though preparing himself.

"Why is that?" he finally replied, his voice deeper, quieter than I remembered.

"Because you are a coward. Cowards hide in the shadows, too ashamed to actually show their faces," I answered, sitting back against my mess of pillows. I winced slightly as the wound in my shoulder pulsed painfully from the sudden movement.

I saw the outline of his head lower slightly as he nodded.

"I deserve that."

"Where is Edward?"

"He's…he'll contact you, Bella."

"Does that mean he's okay?" That really was the most important part.

"He's okay."

Something in my chest loosened, and my breathing suddenly felt smoother, less constricted. In the background, the ticking clock suddenly seemed to slow.

"And he has…forgiven you?"

"You missed a lot while you were unconscious," was his answer.

"You're not really helping with the whole let's-fill-Bella-in part."

"Sorry." His apology was sincere; I could even feel his wince at my words, as though he knew he wasn't helping. "It's hard to answer when I myself am not sure of the answer."

"Okay." I nodded, changing direction. "Tell me why it was you who brought me to the hospital. Last thing I remember, Edward and I were leaving Aro's, and you were nowhere to be found."

"I tracked you two and was almost too late. I found Edward doing his best to protect you as you lay bleeding in the dirt. Jonze was wielding his gun. I showed up, and Jonze thought I was there to help him out." Jasper laughed dryly, and I sat straighter at that.

"And why the hell would he think that?" My sarcasm surprised even me, bitterness sharpening every syllable.

"Because I had promised him my services, as long as he left Alice un-harmed."

His answer didn't surprise me, and yet my anger was still not satiated.

"And so you betrayed Edward and risked his life. My life. Many lives." It was statement, not a question, but Jasper's head bobbed down and then back up in the darkness.

"Yes," he answered simply, but not without emotion.

I pressed my lips together tightly. I wanted so badly to yell at him, to scream at his decision. But I couldn't. He was protecting Alice, the woman he loved. He had placed her above all else, no matter that that decision could have gotten Edward killed.

"When did Jonze get you?" I asked, less aggressively.

"The day…the day before you and Edward visited Seth in the hospital. It was…" Jasper paused and rubbed at his face. I wondered when the last time he had slept was. "It was both the hardest and the easiest decision I've ever had to make. His threat against Alice…I knew what he could do to her if I didn't agree. And yet betraying E…" I heard him swear quietly, and I knew it couldn't have been a decision he liked himself for making.

"E has been my life for a very long time. I have watched over Masen for years, Bella. I have known him better than he ever realized." I turned my head back to his form and bit my lip.

"Tell me," I whispered. I knew there would be more. There had to be.

Jasper's head turned slightly, tilting to the right, as though listening carefully to the sounds outside the hospital door. Then, as though satisfied, he turned back to me. He stood up, lifted the chair he was sitting on, took a few steps closer to my bed, and then set the chair down, much closer.

"Is this okay?" he hesitated, his hands still clutching the arms of the chair.

I nodded, relieved to finally see his features in the soft light from my window. He was suddenly less of an enigma and more of a reality.

"E and I, we have known each other since a very fateful night, years ago. E had just finished watching his parents get burned to death by a sadist. I had just— done my own damage. Dark things we'd both experienced. We met in the hallway of a police station, both awaiting a fate of sorts, both waiting to bargain with the devil. I was up first.

"I didn't know the man that spoke to me so calmly—so quietly and seriously…it was almost frightening. I had never seen him before in my life. But he seemed to know a lot about me. He seemed to know where I came from and what I was up against. He wasn't exactly sympathetic, but he …understood. And there was something about him-I was always able to read people-and there was something about him that spoke to me, that told me I could trust him. So when he said that he had an offer for me, I listened. I forgot the blood and the dirt. I forgot her pleas of forgiveness and his screams of anger, and I listened.

"I could tell you that it was a simple choice, but truthfully, it wasn't. He offered me a freedom I wasn't sure I deserved. It didn't seem right, but I wanted it so badly.

"_The boy you met in the hallway, just now. His name is Edward Masen, and he is in some serious trouble._

"At the time, I wasn't sure why he was telling me this. What did he think my situation was? Just another teenagers murderous rampage? Angst gone wrong?

"_I need someone I can trust completely, and someone they will never suspect. I need someone to watch Edward; to become friends with him; to stay close with him; to watch out for him. I need someone who will report what they see and hear back to me, especially anything suspicious. They are about to have him sign away his life-_that_ I cannot stop. I need him to have a friend who won't let him die. Not to really die, that is._

"I didn't get it at the time, but I didn't reply. I didn't know what the fuck to say.

"_He has enemies, and I need to know who they are. I can't fucking protect him if I don't even know who the bad guys are._

"At this, the man swore. I remember flinching as his calm exterior cracked and he hit his fist against the wooden desk in front of me. I remained silent, all I could think about was the kid in the hallway, waiting for his turn, waiting for his fate to be handed to him. His hollow, darkly bruised eyes had seen more than most kids our age, I knew, because it was like looking in a fucking mirror. I wondered why he was in danger. I wondered if I really do what this man asked of me. It didn't feel right, and yet—I didn't want to rot away in jail. I had spent my entire life hearing all about the horrors of the penal system.

"_He can never know you're watching him, Jasper Whitlock, never. He has to think you two are friends, he has to trust you, and he never will if he knows the truth. If he knows your sole purpose is to stay in his life as a spy rather than a friend, this will never work and will likely result in his death and probably yours._

"_How am I supposed to do this? I'm a nobody from a trailer park. My father was a con-man, my mother a whore. Why would he speak to me, let alone trust me?_

"But his narrowed eyes spoke volumes, Bella, and I knew something important was about to happen.

"_You're a lot more than that Whitlock. I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't think you could do this, and if you can pull this off, you will remain an integral part of the CIA for a long time. You will have a secure job with us for life. There will be no record of your...misdemeanor. You will be able to seek a higher education, if you so desire. You will have money, protection, happiness. You will have a life._

"It sounded too good to be true, but I wanted it so badly, all of it. One word really stuck out.

"_Remain?_

"I'd been confused. To "remain" you had to first be a part of the CIA.

"_Welcome to my team, Whitlock. You start next week. Get your shit together. If you think you can do this, your ass will be in my Seattle office soon. Keep this under the table for now. You will be paid, but you won't be recognized by my team until you can prove yourself trustworthy. You will have an apartment and you will work from there-your purpose in the next few months will be starting a friendship with Edward Masen. If you can do this to my satisfaction, we'll bring you in and set you up. Masen will become suspicious of you if you don't have that desk job. Masen is a smart person…you have to stay ahead of him always because trust me, he will look into your life. He will be suspicious of everyone and everything from now on._

"And I always did, Bella. I had to work hard. There were times when I was sure E suspected something. But when he asked something of me, I didn't ever hesitate to comply. When he asked me to…" Jasper paused here, and his voice softened noticeably. "When he asked me to watch over you in the institution, there was no doubt in my mind that I had to do it, even though I felt it was wrong. I wanted to reason with him, to tell him it was a bad idea. But I knew I would lose him as a confidant, and by that point, we had come a long way. He trusted me more than anyone. I was all he had."

My heart ached painfully for Edward. His entire existence was based on a lie. It wasn't really an existence at all.

"But then I met Alice, and that was the end of it. E was no longer my priority. Before I knew it, before I could attempt to control it, my world shifted, and all I cared about was Alice. I had known for a long time that what I was doing was wrong, but I always reasoned that I was doing it to survive. It was this or jail. But when I met Alice, I was done. I knew I couldn't live this life anymore; the lies were too much. I wanted a clean slate. And so I told…my boss. He very grudgingly agreed. It had been years since E had really been in any danger, and we couldn't pinpoint anyone around him in his life that posed a threat. Of course neither of us realized his very boss, Jonze, was the threat all along…but this was because Jonze didn't yet know who E was. Everything appeared peaceful, and so I withdrew. I told E that I would no longer…follow you."

As I attempted to wrap my brain around what Jasper was telling me, only one question came out of my mouth.

"Who…who was he? The man who recruited you? Why was he so invested in Edward?" It didn't make sense to me. Why would this man invest so much interest and effort in one boy? Had Edward been killed, sure that would have sucked, but why did this man care enough to hire Jasper for the sole purpose of "protecting" him from a nameless, faceless enemy? What did it matter?

"I didn't understand at first either. He had told me that my mission was classified. He and I were the only two who knew what I was truly doing. When he got me a desk at headquarters, it was set-up for me to work on a bogus case, so there would be no questions asked. I did eventually pick up some real cases, easy shit, stuff that would not take my attention away from what I was really supposed to be doing. But it kept the guys off my back, and if Edward ever looked into me, which he did not, he would find me working on legitimate stuff. At one point, I asked if we could close the mission. Nothing was happening, and other than E's shitty emotional problems, all was quiet. But my boss refused. He broke down and told me who he was. You may have heard E talk about The Boss—our commissioner. Back when I met him though, he was still just an agent-an agent with a special interest in E. E never knew him because his father, Anthony Masen and his brother, Charles Masen, had had a falling out over a woman—E's mother. Only weeks before he died, E's dad reconciled with Charles. Anthony was worried, Charles told me later, that something bad was going to happen to him. Charles had made a promise to his brother—should anything happen, he would take care of Edward and his mother."

Jasper stopped and took a breath. I shifted in the bed, leaning forward.

"Well, Anthony was right, and just weeks later, he and his wife were both dead. The Boss, Charles, didn't know how to go about protecting E, so he did what he thought would keep him safest. He didn't let on that there was any relation between the two, and he promptly put me on the case. I was to be the one who protected E, through Charles' directions."

"Edward never knew about him?"

"No. Never. Until now. He does now." Jasper winced slightly, and I wondered why…what had happened since.

"I'll let E tell you about that part," Jasper said quickly, before I could answer.

"When am I going to…will he visit?" I asked, changing my question.

"He's sort of…lying low right now, Bella. There is twenty-four-seven police surveillance outside your door. The people who matter know who he is and that he is guilt free, but the rest of the world still thinks he's a bad guy. Charles won't allow him here. Not yet."

"But you can be here." I stated this with more than a hint of coolness. It wasn't fair.

"E knew he couldn't talk to you in here. He had me do it. They think—they think I'm some sort of hero right now, Bella. Your father wants to award me some sort of medal. I know ironic, right? The betrayer getting recognized for something he didn't do."

"You don't deserve it."

"You're damn right, I don't. And I won't accept it, either. But E sent me, Bella. He wanted you to know at least some of the truth."

"When I get out, where will I find him?"

Jasper didn't look at all surprised. He smiled, and it transformed his entire face.

"He will want to know you asked. He's been…worried that you would never want anything to do with him again."

"He shouldn't…I want to see him. There is a lot we haven't said."

"He's at another one of his apartments. One the Volturi could never find. None of us know exactly where he is, but he will find a way to let you know…whether it's through me, I don't know yet. Our…friendship…is pending. I'm not sure he will forgive me."

"Rightfully." I glared.

"Absolutely."

We stared at one another a moment before I leaned forward and took Jasper's hand. He looked up at me in surprise.

"You did it for her, Jasper. There's not much I can fault you for. I think…in some messed up way, Edward was doing the same for me. He just didn't go about it the same manner."

Jasper remained silent, looking down at our locked hands. He nodded, his eyes still downcast.

"It was always you, Bella. He just didn't realize there was another way. From the beginning, there was always a different choice. He didn't see that until two days ago."

I nodded.

I knew that now.

* * *

**Edward.**

The place was a mess, but that hardly mattered.

I sat on my black La-Z-Boy, surrounded by packed boxes, and surveyed the damage. Using an old truck that belonged to an alias, I had to move as much of my shit as I could in one haul. They hadn't wanted to risk me being around my old dwelling for too long, but I wasn't inclined to care what they wanted. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. I hadn't slept in…how many days now? Too many. When I wasn't worrying about Bella's well-being, I was consumed by Charles Masen's story and Jasper's complete betrayal. Consumed, but not…angry, exactly.

_I have an uncle._

I was still awed at the thought. This man—this brother to my father—had been looking out for me in his own fucked up way for many years, doing what he thought was the right thing. And as angry as I wanted to be at first, and as much as I wanted to yell a great big "What the fuck?" in his face, I had to pause and really examine the situation.

Wasn't this exactly the same thing I had done to Bella? Hadn't I also used Jasper Whitlock to watch over Bella, to spy on her…to take pictures of her life and report back to me? Hadn't I thought I was protecting her by not being honest? By hiding away? Yes, I had. And so my anger quieted, and instead of lashing out, I hugged the uncle I had never known. All wasn't okay, there was a lot to learn and even more to truly understand, but I wanted to work for it. Because I had an uncle-someone who knew my father and my mother better than I was ever allowed to know them.

And if I could forgive him, perhaps Bella could one day forgive me.

_Leave._

I hadn't been shocked to hear her words in the hospital days before as she woke up, but they hurt all the same. The times I could sneak in while she was unconscious, I hoped, wished, imagined, fucking _prayed_ that when she opened her eyes and saw me she would smile, open her arms and beckon me to her. Cheesy. Cue the fucking music. Hallmark happy moments were never meant to be a part of my life. I should have known better. Instead, she didn't even have to open her eyes to know she didn't want me there.

_Leave._

_If that's what you want._

My phone rang from my back pocket, and I reluctantly reached to check the caller ID.

_Jasper calling._

My jaw clenched involuntarily, and I considered the "ignore" button. Jasper's lies ran deep, and I wasn't so eager to forgive and forget—there were so many years of lying, so many years of pretending. It was a hard thing to get over, and not something I was sure I could ever forgive. He said he could be patient. I could feel the sadness radiating from him in waves...and yet, that would not suffice. Not now and maybe not ever. Until then, I knew he would help me any way he could, so I sent him to see Bella. She needed someone to explain to her what had happened, and she clearly didn't want me…there.

I shifted my attention to the answer button and pressed it quickly, knowing he would be calling about Bella.

"Whitlock," I stated. There was no friendliness in my voice, no trace of familiarity or warmth. "How is she?" I added immediately, wanting to move on quickly from what I was hearing in myself. I didn't like it-this was not who I wanted to be.

"She's well. She's awake and alert and has some color in her cheeks."

I breathed.

"I told her everything…everything about my role in all this. I told her about Charles."

"Thank you." I responded sincerely to this. I was done with keeping Bella in the dark-I only hoped Jasper's new information helped rather than hindered. "How did she—take the news?"

"Well, she doesn't much care for me, but I think she..." and here Jasper's voice went funny, "…understands."

I let that sink in.

"She also…she also wanted to know when she could see you."

My heart thumped, and I closed my eyes, running one hand over my face before I answered.

"When she asked…how did she—is she angry?"

"No. Sad. Wistful. She wished I was you, visiting her. She said you two had a lot of things to talk about."

That's an understatement.

"Anything else?"

Jasper paused and then said, "No."

After I hung up, I couldn't shake the feeling of having done this already. How was this any different than the past few years…having Jasper check up on Bella and reporting back to me.

_But this time it's different._

I threw another arm-load of books and papers into a box and tried not to dwell on the irony.

It didn't take long for a smile to break out on my face.

She wanted to see me.

* * *

**Bella**

I looked up at the fancy apartment complex and took a deep breath. Edward's alias sure knew how to live. Address in hand, I pushed open the huge glass doors and noticed there was no door-man, which made sense, as Edward didn't need anyone watching his comings and goings. I wondered again what his future held. Was he going to continue doing what he was doing? Would he start a new life, under a new name?

Would he want me?

I stepped into the front foyer. A huge chandelier hung from the high ceiling, demanding attention in the most obvious way. I continued on, ignoring the shiny marble elevators, instead opting for the stairs. I was through with elevators-they had not served me well in the past few months. As I climbed flight after flight, my palms grew sweaty and my stomach flip-flopped. I was nervous.

In a matter of minutes, I would be face to face with Edward, and I had no idea what I was going to do or say. I had had a plan up until about ten minutes ago. Now I was blank.

He had no idea I was on my way, but Jasper assured me that he would be there, lying low after all the fallout and damage from the past few weeks.

In front of his door now, I wondered what the hell I was doing.

I had been unofficially released from the hospital only an hour ago. By unofficially, I mean that the doctor said he did not recommend me leaving for another day, but officially, he wouldn't keep me there any longer. By unofficially, I mean that no one but Jasper knew that I had left. By unofficially, I mean that Jasper had dropped me off and I really had no way back home.

By unofficially, I mean that I knew this probably was a horrible idea. And yet, I had to see him.

I rolled my wounded shoulder, feeling the uncomfortable stiffness the doctor had warned me of only an hour earlier.

"_The numbness may never completely go away," _he had explained.

I hoped to hell he was wrong, because I was lying to myself. I knew _exactly_ what I was doing here, in front of Edward's door.

_I don't want to be numb anymore._

A deep breath in, knuckles to the door. I could do this.

_Knock_. Once. _Knock_. Twice. _Knock_. One more time, in case he was in the bathroom. I pulled my hand away from the door and suppressed my urge to cover the peep-hole. I didn't want him to stand there, on the other side of the door, studying me as I shook in my shoes. I glanced around and considered hiding until he opened the door and then jumping out and yelling "Surprise!" But then, would the real surprise be when he shot me because he actually was surprised and didn't realize it was me? That would not be the kind of surprise I was going f—

I needed to stop. Seconds ticked by and no Edward. Was Jasper wrong? Maybe he had run out to buy watermelon, or a new gun, or whatever assassins on the run did with their spare time.

But then I heard it. Piano music, floating serenely from the other side of the door. He couldn't hear me; he was playing. And I knew when he played, he was in another world, a world I was suddenly desperate to witness.

It took me about three more seconds to decide to try the doorknob. I realized I was risking a lot by entering his apartment, but I couldn't stop myself. The music, the magnetism I always felt when he was near, it was calling to me. I placed my hand on the knob and turned it, surprised to find it wasn't locked. I pushed open the door and peered in cautiously. I knew he couldn't be close, because the music was drifting from a distance. I stepped in and closed the door softly behind me, noting the stacked boxes and general chaos of the huge entry way and living room. To my right I could see the large, open kitchen. I put one foot in front of the other as the music took on a darker tone. He was hitting the low keys hard-this was not the happy part of the song, and I wondered suddenly what this one was about.

As though possessed, I made my way to the back of the room and found I was looking down a hallway. The music was coming from the last open door on the left, and as I silently padded down the plush carpeted hall, my heart hammered in my chest.

What was I doing?

But it was too late, I was in the door way.

And there he was- his back to the door, straight and beautiful, his hair pointing every which way in a messy arrangement of perfection.

I ignored the details of the extravagant room-large, circular with a high vaulted ceiling, and watched as his hands danced up and down the keys. There was music in front of him, but I wondered if he was even reading it. The way he was playing-so smoothly, so effortlessly, as though the music actually lived and breathed inside of him rather than existed on paper, led me to believe his eyes were actually closed.

I took a step closer as the dark notes thundered through the room, anger…there was so much anger and pain. I cringed, but was fascinated by the story.

I had to know how it ended. I felt like I had waited a lifetime.

He must have sensed me then, because the music stopped abruptly and I was suddenly staring into the two deep, dark green masses I dreamed of.

He remained seated at the bench, his body frozen, eyes wide, shocked. I watched him, hesitating.

And then, because I had to know, "How does it end?"

Edward took a breath, his eyes never leaving me. Staring straight at me, into me.

"I was hoping to figure that out."

I took a few steps forward, watching him for any sign that I should stop and turn back. Leave, never come back.

"Bella…" My name and then…nothing. He was searching for the right words.

"Thank you for the daisies," I said quickly, suddenly feeling shy. I pulled at a strand of hair nervously.

He smiled and turned his body completely around to face me. But he didn't stand up, instead eyeing my shoulder and arm sling warily.

"What about the room with a view? That was all me," he joked, licking his lips. His hand moved to his unruly mess tangle of hair, and I smiled as he pulled at the ends. He was nervous, too.

"Good thing I put that request in early; I somehow knew I'd wind up there." I meant it lightheartedly, but as soon as I said it, I regretted it. Every ounce of happiness disappeared from Edward at those words, and I immediately wanted to take them back, hide them.

"Bella. I'm…I have a lot of apologizing to do and 'I'm sorry' just doesn't even begin to cover it."

"You don't—I know, Edward. I know you are. I think…I understand. Jasper came to see me-well, I guess you know that already. But he helped me understand things. There is still a lot I don't get, probably a lot I will never comprehend, but what I do understand, Edward, is that you're truly sorry. You did what you did because you thought you were protecting me."

Edward frowned, grabbing his hair with more ferocity.

"Uhm, right?" I questioned, confused by his reaction to my words.

"You weren't supposed to be so understanding, Bella. I don't deserve this." Edward swept his hands toward me.

"'So understanding'? Didn't I just put you through days of hell? Don't get me wrong, Edward, I think the way you went about protecting me was pretty messed up. But you didn't know any better than I did what would happen. You just…you wanted me to be happy."

I looked away.

"But you weren't. You never were," Edward said quietly. My eyes darted back to him, and I shook my head.

"Never completely. Not without…" But I couldn't finish my sentence because to admit it would make it real. He would know. I would have opened up my heart to him, and he would know how much he affected me. How much I needed him.

Edward was on his feet and in front of me in a second. He raised his hand up to my face, but didn't touch me.

"I've hurt you. So much. I want to make everything right, Bella, but I know I can't. What's been done can never be undone. But…I want to make it up to you. We've missed so much time together, and I want…I need to know if you think that…there's a chance that we could…" I winced slightly at his words, and instantly regretted it. Edward stopped and closed his eyes, his hand falling from the space next to my face. "It wasn't supposed to be like this; it was never supposed to go like this."

My heart pounded as I watched his shoulders sag, defeat written across his dejected form. In that second, I knew—I had always known, but now I _knew_. We hadn't come this far to give up, but I knew I wasn't the only one experiencing numbness. How long had Edward frozen out his feelings? How long had he been shuting down emotions? How long would it take to _feel_ again?

We had to fight the numbness and we had to win, or what was any of this for? Aro may have just as well won. He owned numbness…he relied on its effects to lead his people.

We would win because we had to, and I knew it would have to start with me—which was a role that I was finally ready to accept.

The entire time I stood close to Edward, energy hummed between our bodies, a magnetism that I didn't understand, but knew well. Instead of breaking the connection, as I had been doing for the last few weeks, I pulled myself forward until my arms were wrapped tightly around Edward's neck. I pulled my head back just enough to find his ear.

"I love you, Edward Masen." Thick and raspy though they were, the words liberated my heart and I held him even tighter. I felt his hands take my waist, grasping me to him before pulling me back a few inches to find my eyes. His own eyes were round with shock, but bright, his mouth agape, upturned the slightest amount in a start to an incredulous smile. He tried to speak, once…twice. Words failed him.

I grinned and pulled his face close, my hands shaking against his cheeks.

"Always have, you know. I had your heart for so many years, and I kept it safe." I pulled the chain from beneath my shirt, grasping the claddagh ring tightly in my fist. "But you had mine too." Taking my other hand from Edward face, I found his right hand and pulled it slowly up to my heart, placing his palm flat between my breasts, and my own hand covering his.

"This has always been yours."

Tears ran silently down Edward's face as he looked up from our hands, and I kissed them softly, one at a time, my own tears escaping. I wanted to tell him about numbness and winning, but that could wait.

I had a feeling that we would have a lot of time to talk. Later.

He closed his eyes and ran his free hand up the side of my body as I kissed him. His hand stopped at my neck, and before I could even wonder what he was doing, he pulled hard and the chain holding the ring broke apart. I pulled back, surprised, and opened my fist to stare at the ring. Edward carefully picked up the ring, sliding it from the broken chain, and examined it carefully, critically, for a moment.

Silently, he reached for my right hand, taking it gently in his. His eyes found my own and he finally smiled. Hope, love, passion and fear simmered from under that complicated grin.

He slid the ring onto the fourth finger of my right hand.

"Bella Swan. I have never stopped loving you. Can we…start again?"

I shook my head.

"Let's not start again. You said it yourself: 'What has been done can never be undone'. Let's just get it right this time."

Edward grinned and pulled me to him. My body ablaze, our lips connected, and I found my place in the world.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, her right hand. Not her left. Come on, they have things to catch up on before they'd even think of _that_!

Thank you guys for sticking with me and my story. I know it's been many months since I last updated, and I appreciate the fact that you came back to read/skim/groan/leave me hate mail:)

And thanks to everyone who continued to support the story, even during its hiatus. The girls over at A Different Forest deemed me worthy and welcomed me as an author on the site, despite my lack of participation in the twific world over the last few months. It's an incredible honor to be featured among some of my very favorite authors. Props also go out to the_gaz because even when I was swamped with work and teaching and Master's papers, it managed to lure me online to creep posts and keep me updated. Twilightzoner at twilighted . net deserves awards and gold stars for patiently taking care of my comma problems:)

And thanks for all the continued rec's, reviews and tweets! You guys just plain rock. I am humbled by your awesomeness.

There is one more chapter left in Détruit. And it's going to be a goody.


	20. Chapter 19 Lost Time

Go back and read the last 2 or 3 chapters? Please? I know I had to:) This is the last chapter. Enjoy!

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Chapter 19 Lost Time

"Tonight we are focusing on a bizarre story that we began covering nearly six years ago. Every year, on the anniversary of his death, we have brought our viewers a tribute story on temporary Forks resident Edward Masen, remembering the teenage boy who touched so many hearts before his untimely passing. Why, some have asked, is the death of a 16 year-old boy something so news worthy? Why would we continue to cover the death of someone so "unimportant", or "inconsequential" as Edward Masen? To be honest, after we ran the original story on Masen's death almost six years ago, we believed that was the end, just a quick story on the tragic death of teenager. But after the story ran, we received letters and calls. There was something about Edward Masen that touched hearts and minds. Our viewers wanted to know more about Masen, but also more about what happened to Masen's girlfriend, a bright and beautiful young lady who took his death hard, and wound up in a psychiatric hospital. The questions continued to pour in, and so we decided to follow up every year there was a continued interest. We thought last year would be our last story.

"We were wrong.

"Many of you will remember when the story broke last year regarding Seattle's top mob boss, Aro Volturi, and his sudden arrest. The previously un-touchable lord of the underground drug and crime ring was finally put on trial for his involvement in thousands of "un-solved" cases in the Seattle area. Murders, drug smuggling, and distributing disappearances were all linked to this man. Aro Volturi and many of his men were finally going to get justice. But what turned the tables on this king of the underworld? Well, the capture and subsequent jailing is thanks to a one Mr. Edward Masen. No, he did not come back from the grave, in fact, Mr. Masen was never actually dead.

"The parents we all thought belonged to Edward Masen were never his real parents. Masen's FBI agent parents were murdered before Masen moved to Forks . Their deaths led Edward Masen into an undercover operation in Forks, Washington. His "death" was a part of his mission. It was a death that was necessary to the top-secret operation in which he was heavily involved, this was a death that had been planned from the moment he stepped foot within Forks city limits, a death he always knew would have to happen. What hadn't been planned? Falling in love with Isabella Swan, a classmate at the high school he was attending during his time on the project. When the time came, Masen had to "die" and remain dead, as an integral part of the operation. With heavy regret, and not without an attempt to back out of his mission, Masen said goodbye to his love, leaving her with a ring and a broken heart. Masen had lived in the shadows, not ever allowed to reveal that he, Edward Masen, had never actually perished in the car accident we all thought had claimed his life. Swan continued on with her life after a rough year, believing that her high school sweetheart was dead.

"Five years later, not long after we ran what we believed was our last story on Masen and Swan, the two were brought together in the most bizarre of circumstances. Her university professor shot dead moments before she was to meet him at his apartment, Swan was taken by Volturi and held hostage. Masen, who had been following the going-ons of the Volturi for years in an attempt to bring down the drug lord, was the one to discover Swan's whereabouts. And so, after years of separation and not knowing he was alive, Swan was reunited with Masen. What followed was a love-story for the ages."

I rolled my eyes as pictures of Bella and I graced the screen of my bedroom television. Tangled up in sheets, Bella threw the remote at me.

"Is that the story they decided to go with?" she asked, pulling the rubber band from around her hair and shaking her long locks from side-to-side. I watched in silence as the sheet slid down just slightly, revealing the tops of her breasts.

I grinned.

"Edward, is that the…" Bella threw her ruffled hair back, her words trailing off as she glanced at me questioningly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she laughed, pulling the rubber band back and aiming it at me playfully, squinting one eye closed as though taking aim.

"It's just…" I gathered a handful of sheet and smiled innocently before pulling hard. The sheet _whooshed_ off, and Bella squealed in mock terror, attempting to cover her naked body, a body I now knew very well, as I rose to my knees towering over her, fingers flexed and ready to tickle her.

But instead of attacking my shrieking girlfriend, I just stopped and dropped my hands. Cowering behind her own, Bella paused and looked up at me, her expression transforming to one of concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly, propping herself up.

"You're so beautiful," I replied simply leaning down and taking her face between my hands. She had no idea what she did to me—well, that wasn't exactly true. I ignored the lustful grin Bella threw downwards and continued to focus on her face.

In the months that had flown by since our reunion, Bella had been amazing. We had been amazing. There had been rough spots, sure, there had been a lot to deal with, but we were making our way through them and growing stronger by the day. And after weeks and weeks of persistence, I had finally convinced Bella to move in with me. We had pretty much been spending every waking (and non-waking) moment together, so not only did it make sense, but it felt right. And Bella had agreed profusely, especially after I drove her crazy in bed night after night...and then morning after morning…and day after day.

I hoped the honeymoon phase would never end, and with Bella, I was positive it wouldn't.

"What are you thinking about?" teased Bella, her hand working its way through my hair, as her other hand went to the button of my cargo shorts.

"Mmmmm, you." I dipped my head down and kissed her softly on the lips. But soft wasn't going to satiate Bella this morning, and she quickly pulled me closer, her warm tongue finding my own as we both moaned softly. My right hand slipped from her face and moved down to her naked left breast, cupping it gently. Bella moaned more loudly, and I pulled my mouth from hers with a grin.

"Come on, sexaholic, we've got to get ready for Jasper and Alice's."

"Just five more…ten more minutes!" responded Bella, biting her lower lip and looking up at me from beneath her upper lashes.

I groaned and jumped back from the bed.

"No! You are not allowed to use your baby lamb eyes on me!" I laughed, stepping out of my undone shorts. "We're already late!" I said glancing at the clock on the bedside table and heading towards the shower to start the water.

"Prude!" yelled Bella behind me, throwing a pillow at my retreating form.

My face was beginning to hurt from all the smiling I was doing while in Bella's presence. She blew me away, every moment we were together, which had been many. The longest time we'd been apart since the day Bella had come to my apartment, had been when Bella had driven back to Forks to talk to Charlie. We had agreed that it would be best (and probably safest for me), if she went down the day before to tell Charlie that I was alive. I drove to Forks the next day to do what I could to explain myself to the Chief. It had not been an easy few days, Charlie had been outraged at me. But the most difficult time had been those 24 hours without Bella. Charlie's wrath had been much more pleasant than the pain of no Bella.

She was a part of me. She always had been and she always would be. I think, in the end, Charlie had understood that, just as I understood that he would probably never completely trust me. I got it. Bella could forgive me and move on because she loved me. But Charlie loved Bella and I had hurt her deeply. He would never forget that…and that surprisingly didn't bother me. Anyone whose priority was Bella, could be as weary of me as they wanted.

The water now warm, I turned back toward the bedroom and to find Bella looking for her bathrobe. I lumbered toward her and scooped her up, throwing her over my shoulder barbarian style.

"Hey! Edward!" She shrieked when she realized where we were going. I slapped her ass a couple times, causing her to shriek even louder and then put her down under the shower water, closing the door behind me, a sly smirk on my face. Two steps forward and I had Bella pinned up against the shower wall.

Right where I wanted her.

"Prude?" I echoed her earlier word, lifting her slightly by her slim hips, and pressing her back against the tiled wall. Even in the shower, with the water cascading around us, I could feel the heat of her desire against my own. I thrust forward quickly and Bella gasped quietly and then moaned, her eyes closing, her head tilting back. Her legs wrapped around my back, her hands braced flat against the tile as I continued to thrust, more deeply now, one hand under Bella's ass, the other rubbing her softly. I watched Bella's face and when I saw she was close, I slowed my rhythm, knowing exactly what would do it for her. I loved watching Bella cum, her face one of such open and pure beauty, and as her moans became almost frantic, I felt myself reach the plateau. The second I felt Bella clench around me, I lost it.

We fell apart together.

* * *

**Bella**

"You guys are late! Why are you guys so late?" asked Alice, her hands dancing around like hummingbirds as she pulled me down for a hug. I knew she was excited and nervous and wanted everything to be perfect today. I grinned sheepishly and looked over at Edward, my cheeks filling with blood.

"We…sorry, we ah. Traffic? Sorry Alice." I laughed weakly at my complete inability to come up with a good excuse.

"Bella is a sex maniac. How did you not warn me of this, Alice?" Whispered Edward, his eyes wide and feigning innocence, as he leaned down to hug Alice. Alice beamed over at me from above Edward's shoulder and threw me a thumbs up.

"Bella? Keep it in your pants!" she admonished teasingly. I grinned when Edward turned to look at me, his eyes motioning dramatically to a nearby closet door.

"No! No sex at my engagement party! All closets are off limits for you two!" Alice exclaimed, throwing herself in front of the closet door and shaking her head vigorously. Edward laughed and took my hand in his, squeezing it playfully. During our first few weeks back together, I didn't ever think he and Alice would ever be able to hold this type of relationship. But now…they wouldn't stop. And I kind of loved it.

"Is that Bella and Edward? Alice, get them in here quickly, they brought their friends!" called Emmett from another room. I looked behind me and sure enough, news stations and camera crews were parked outside the Cullen property gates. Ever since the story had broken regarding who Edward really was, and his role in the Volturi crackdown, we had been followed mercilessly by reporters and their crews, hoping to get an interview. We knew it would die down eventually, but it was annoying being followed all the time. Even Oprah wanted a piece of the story! But all we wanted was normalcy—something neither of had had in a very long time.

Edward pulled me forward and into the Cullen mansion. As we made our way forward into the huge house, I beamed with pride at my best friend. She looked beautiful, dressed Grecian-like in a white flowing strapless floor-length dress. She had somehow managed to braid the front sections of her shoulder length hair in a band around her head and she looked stunning. She had set a theme to her engagement party-which surprised no one-but as I entered the large living room and then looked out and beyond at the guests on the huge patio, the effect was almost magical: all the women were in white, all the men wore black.

Everything was perfect and I told Alice as much.

"You think?" she fingered her large, sparkly diamond nervously and looked around the room, her eyes, I knew, searched for Jasper. And as though he felt it, Jasper suddenly materialized from the crowd, his arm slipping around Alice's waist as he smiled over at Edward and I.

"Jasper, everything is…amazing," I smiled up at the blond man who had gone from a virtual stranger, to an amazing friend in the span of mere months. I stepped forward and hugged him tightly, wanting to convey to him everything I felt. I wanted him to know he was one of us now. Even if Edward still had trouble with their relationship, he was trying hard…and I knew they would be okay. I pulled back, and Jasper nodded down at me. He understood.

Edward shook Jasper's hand, taking his eyes off me to smile at Jasper. I watched Edward's face carefully, noticing a change. Usually, although Edward wasn't consciously aware of this, he was always more tense around Jasper. I could see the small muscles in his face tighten-he could never relax around Jasper. But today, suddenly, none of that was there.

"Who'd have thought?" he said quietly, and Jasper understood that, too.

"Never in a million years," he responded, looking from Edward to Alice and I. We were kind of a story. A really unique, happy story. I put my arm around Alice's shoulders, and smiled widely.

"Hey kids! Over here! We need some pictures!" called Esme from the French doors, her SLR camera focused and already clicking in our direction as she caught the many candid moments. Jasper rolled his eyes good naturedly and followed as Alice practically leaped towards the patio spouting something about lighting and angles.

I smiled at Edward and took his hand as we wound our way toward the patio to watch Alice and Jasper pose in the beautiful back gardens.

"Edward! Bella!" called a voice. Edward and I turned together to see Charles Masen standing with a couple of his own agents, and Jasper's friends and co-workers. It was weird to see him standing among his men, all looking equal in their black suits. I was still slightly daunted by the power he held, despite the fact that he and Edward had been spending a lot of time together. Although Edward was having a harder time with his relationship with Jasper, things with Charles were pretty much the opposite.

"Hey Charles!" I called, as we changed directions to say hi.

I watched as the two embraced with a manly back pat, smiling happily. Charles pecked me quickly on the cheek, his eyes shining.

We had gotten in the routine of going out for dinner with him every Tuesday night. In between dinners, he and Edward spent time at Charles' place, digging through boxes, looking at pictures, and building a very naturally developing relationship. Edward was ecstatic with his uncle, and watching them together always told me it was very much reciprocated.

"Bella!" called a voice from the kitchen. I glanced over to see Seth waving at me frantically. I grinned back and squeezed Edwards's hand.

"I'll be right back," I spoke, nodding my head in Seth's direction. Edward saluted Seth and continued talking with his uncle, their enthusiasm for each other's company never ceased to amaze me. Both kind of lone rangers apart, together they were like old gossiping ladies.

I found Seth pouring wine into a couple of glasses.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" I teased.

"Really? Is that the opening statement to a guy who saved your life multiple times?" laughed Seth, handing me a glass, and then grabbing another empty one from the white clothed table.

"What? I thought all that went out the window when you put that bag over my head and delivered me to Aro."

"Uhmm…that was to save your life- Bella, you always forget to add that part," Seth sighed heavily, but we grinned at each other affectionately. Seth had truly become like a brother to me. We teased one another mercilessly, but loved and respected each other. He was one of a few that I really did owe my life to. Without Seth, I wouldn't have made it out of the safe house alive and I would never, ever forget that.

"Bella, I brought Leah. I wanted you to meet her. But I kind of lost her already." Seth glanced around the kitchen looking confused. Leah Clearwater was Seth's older sister. The very sister who, I had later learned, had been held prisoner only three cells down from my own in Aro's basement. Aro, working with Jonze, had ordered his men to kidnap her many days before I was ever there, in order to blackmail Seth into playing the "right" part in his plot. Jonze had given Aro all the information he needed on Seth, and the rest had played out as he had hoped—except for the part when Seth slipped me a gun. Aro had certainly never expected Seth's loyalty-and neither had Jonze when he chose Seth from his more senior agents. Jonze had originally decided to have Seth take me to the safe house because he wanted me to come to trust the friendly, innocent looking Seth Clearwater. He thought this would play to their advantage later on.

They were so very wrong.

"Huh. Well, I guess she's with my mom. Who is probably with _your_ dad. Such a small fucking world," Seth grumbled, still not amused that our parents were dating. But he was right. It was a small fucking world. I had known Sue Clearwater for a couple of years. I even knew that she had two kids living in Seattle, but I had never met them, and had certainly never connected the dots, even after I'd met Seth. In fact, it wasn't until two weeks out of the hospital, when I was visiting Charlie, did we all figure it out. That occasion alone could have made a perfect prime time sit-com sketch. And when Seth's horrified expression finally cleared, his sense of humor came back:

"Now how am I supposed to win over Bella when my mom and her dad are having family gatherings and sucking face? Awkward!"

I scanned the crowd of people for a girl that looked like Seth, but found my eyes settling on Edward in the next room. He was already watching me, his smile easy and carefree as he talked with Charles and some of the other agents. I marveled at how far we had come just in ourselves. Edward had been so broken, I didn't realize just how dark his life had been for so long until we began spending time together. Going out in during the day wasn't normal for him, and he was border-line paranoid when I started encouraging day time activities. Although he tried to hide his tendencies from me, I would catch him checking exits, studying strangers, and taking weird routes to get to our destinations, avoiding places he was used to avoiding, which, I soon found out, included many places in my life.

Edward had been terrified of walking past me on the street—scared that I would recognize him, but even more afraid that I wouldn't.

I smiled back softly and turned my attention back to Seth.

"I'm glad you guys could come. I know with everything your family's been through, and with Leah and everything…" I trailed off at Seth's quick nod. His usually bright, open expression clouded, and I knew he didn't want to think about it right now. Leah had been through some horrible stuff, thanks to the Volturi. She had been in constant therapy since, and Seth had taken a leave from work to help out his mom where he could.

"She'll be okay, she's making huge progress—what the hell? Is that Jacob Black?" Seth swore under his breath as he glared across the room. I followed his gaze and almost busted out laughing. Alice and Jacob had never hit it off…Alice claimed to have always known he just wasn't right for me—but she had no qualms about inviting him to her engagement party. I think part of her motivation was to have him see Edward and I together and happy. I had felt a little weird about him being there…not because of any lingering feelings over him (definitely not), but because I didn't want him to feel like I was pushing Edward and my happiness in his face.

Apparently, I had nothing to worry about.

Even from across the kitchen and into another room, I could see something between Jacob and the girl I could only assume was Leah Clearwater, a very pretty, feminine version of Seth. They sat on a couch together laughing at something. The way their body language spoke, I knew this would not be the last of Jacob and Leah. I grinned at Seth's scowl.

"How long has it been since she's smiled, Seth? Laughed?" I asked softly, touching his arm. I didn't want to make him feel guilty, but we both knew Leah deserved something good in her life. And I knew Jacob Black was something great. Seth's scowl disappeared.

"Long. Too long. But Jacob Black? He used to pants me in the cafeteria in front of Mindy Campell!"

"Get over yourself, Clearwater." I poked him and took a sip of the wine he had given me.

"After that, Mindy sure did," he muttered. But he was grinning, and when Jacob looked up our way and waved, we both waved back.

"So what's the top secret gossip on Jonze? Where do they have him?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, Seth."

"Belllllllla, come on. I don't hear anything anymore on this stupid leave. Nobody tells me shit."

"He's locked up. Charles says he won't be seeing daylight for a very long time. He's not even going to be tried when Aro is tried. He'll rot away until after that—and then he's looking at a very long time behind bars."

"But he knows people…you think-?"

"Maybe. I don't know. But I don't think he'll be fucking with Edward again."

"It's not Edward I'm actually worried about." Seth's eyes serious, he trained them on me.

"Hey between the two of you, I learned some moves, okay? Nothing to worry about." I knew the worrying wouldn't stop, not for any of us, not for a long time. But I couldn't let it control our lives, we had to live for the moment, the day, the week. We had to live for the moments that meant something, the moments like today.

"Let's go find everyone," I suggested, grabbing my wine glass, suddenly desperate to be closer to Edward. I glanced back to where I had left him, but he had moved elsewhere.

"Be right there. I'm just going to go re-introduce myself to Jacob."

"Play nice," I warned with a laugh and a wave. I wove my way back through the living room and out the French doors just as Carlisle was clinking his wine glass with a fork to gather the crowd's attention.

People milled out at the promise of a speech, the huge patio overflowing onto the lawn and into the gardens below. I spotted Edward across the patio next to Charlie and Sue, his smile brightening the moment our eyes met. His eyes shone with excitement and I knew something was up. I shot him a questioning look, but he merely smiled even wider.

"I just wanted to thank everyone for coming to be here with Alice and Jasper and their families today. This is a momentous occasion for all of us and Esme and I are thrilled to be hosting you all here. Thank you all for coming to celebrate in Alice and Jasper's love."

Glasses clinked around me as we all cheersed.

My eyes on Edward, I watched as he cleared his throat and raised his glass again.

"As Jasper's best man, it is my duty to show you all how amazing these two people are. And so, if you all will find your way into the Cullen's media room, there will be a short slide show, created by Alice's wonderful maid of honor, Bella Swan."

My mouth opened in surprise, and I turned toward Jasper, whose mouth had also dropped. Jasper had asked Edward to be his best man weeks ago. Edward had not been able to accept at the time-he confessed to me that he didn't want to be best man if he didn't feel the role; it wouldn't be fair to either of them. Jasper had been disappointed, and I had been disappointed. But I understood, too.

Edward's revelation was a big step, and Jasper, Alice and I all knew it was a good sign. As people began filing back into the house to find the media room, I made my way to Edward and hugged him tightly.

"When did you decide?" I asked, pulling away and looking up into his green eyes.

"About thirty minutes ago when I watched you hug Jasper. That hug says everything, Bella. And I want to get on with my life, as the rest of you all have, and stop dwelling. I am lucky to have Jasper in my life. Even though it started out as a pretense, Bella, it was so much more than that in the end."

As Jasper approached, I grabbed a nearby Charlie and pulled him toward the house to let the two talk.

The day was definitely shaping up nicely.

"The Cullen's have certainly outdone themselves, hey Bells?" spoke Charlie as we passed tables of food.

"Just wait till you see Alice's plans for the actual wedding, it's going to leave you speechless, "I responded squeezing his arm and smiling up at the man who brought me up.

"Just don't you be getting any ideas, okay? Edward has a long way to go before I'm willing to let him do anything crazy."

I laughed.

"So no to a Vegas wedding? No Elvis priest? Or we could elope…" I suggested, pretending to mull over my options.

"Bells, _not _funny."

"But you do know I'm crazy about him, right? And this thing we've got? Serious." Telling Charlie that I was moving in with Edward a couple weeks ago nearly gave him a coronary, but I had promised him we were taking our relationship in steps. Nothing too fast, nothing too crazy.

Not yet, anyway.

"I know, I know. And Bells, I hate to admit it because it means I was wrong, but I see the way that boy looks at you. He's learned from his mistake. He won't be letting you go again. Ever."

I grinned up at my dad and hugged him. That was as good as it was going to get from Charlie.

Later that night, I found myself on Edward's leather couch with my feet propped up, pretending to read a book, but actually watching as Edward consumed his own. Edward was not interested in furthering his career as an assassin and so, when he was able, he enrolled in college and quickly found his calling in forensic science. He was fascinated by thuman's ability to use science in order to solve crimes. He felt he knew enough about the darker sides of covering up crimes, and thought he could offer an inside perspective to the field. He wasn't wrong. His first research paper touched on the science of covering up a crime and how it can be an art form. He researched many known and not-so-known American killers, but it was his unique voice and subtle insight that had his professor speechless.

I'm not exaggerating when I saw Edward found the perfect field. He already had the credentials and experience.

I watched as Edward flipped a page of his text book, but eyes working over the words greedily. I knew every word he read would be easily retrievable even days weeks. He had the kind of photographic memory any student envied.

Alice asked me a few weeks ago if I was ever creeped out by the fact that Edward had killed dozens of people. And to be honest, this was something that had bothered me at first. On one of our first "dates", Edward took me to a movie. We held hands in the dark, and at one point I looked down at our entwined fingers and mentally flinched at the image that invaded my mind. Those hands, those beautiful, long-fingered hands, had pulled the trigger, squeezed the life, wielded the knife, on so many. Could I possibility get over that?

It seemed we might be doomed from the start. But Edward knew, as he always did, that something was wrong. When I confessed my feelings, he was silent a moment before being honest about what he'd done. Who he had killed. Every single person who had died at his hands, died because they did bad things to people who didn't deserve it.

"_I know that doesn't make what I did right. Who am I to take the law into my own hands? But I want you to know that they were all guilty of something dirty. I made sure before I pulled that trigger." _

I was surprisingly okay with it after that. His hands and fingers only brought me one thing, and I trusted them, and him to continue that way.

"Edward," I whispered softly, not wanting to break the comfortable silence that enveloped us both. And yet I had to find his eyes, his smile. I would never get enough of either and would always greedily seek them out when they were turned away from me.

Maybe I _was _greedy, but I was pretty sure forensics could wait until tomorrow.

Edward's eyes lit up as soon as they met mine. He tossed the heavy text book to the floor and came to me at once, leaning over my body and cupping my face gently between his strong hands.

"I love you so much," I whispered, my eyes on his. His smile appeared at once, as he stroked a finger across my cheek.

"Bella, my Bella. There are no words. You brought me back to life. Twice."

He leaned down and kissed me so carefully, so softly on my lips. As though I would break.

"I love you," he whispered between kisses.

It didn't take long for those soft kisses to ignite my passion. From outside the apartment, a cat scratched on the kitchen window, wanting in. But tonight, for a few hours at least, Mooch would have to wait.

We had a lot of lost time to make up.

* * *

A/N: Annnnnnd, that's it. Thanks for sticking with me on this one, guys. I know it took me a very long time to post this last chapter, but life found me and didn't let me go. I'm actually sick at home from life today, and what a great chance to finally publish this last chapter.

Again, I thank everyone who helped me and supported me along the way. I doubt I would ahve made it to the end without you guys:) You've all been amazing.

-Somah


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